“Grace, here is an Indian who wishes to speak with you,” interrupted Hippy.
“Me take care ponies,” said the Indian. “Me Joe Smoky Face.”
“Do you work about the Lodge?” questioned Grace.
“Yes.”
“I will see the clerk about you. Please excuse me for a moment.” Grace stepped briskly into the Lodge, followed by Lieutenant Wingate and the Indian. During her absence, the general briefly related the story, as he knew it, of the work of the Overton Unit in France.
“I think the man understands what is required of him. The clerk says he is dependable,” announced Grace upon her return to the veranda. “The horses being arranged for, I think we will go to our quarters now, if you will excuse us, General.”
“You will join us at dinner, Mrs. Gray?” questioned the general.
“Yes, thank you.”
The Overton girls went to their rooms, not to appear again until just before dinner time. Wearing fresh uniforms, well groomed, eyes sparkling, cheeks tinged with faint flushes, they elicited a murmur of approval from the tourists as they stepped out on the veranda to join General Gordon and his party.
“Mess is served,” announced the general.