“’Now, one—two—three!’”

“Lieutenant!”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Go straight ahead and watch out for us. Whistle three times if the coast is clear. Beware of—of anything you see!”

A peculiar caution in the slope of his shoulders.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The Lieutenant slunk off, a peculiar caution in the slope of his shoulders and his long, noiseless stride. He rounded the barn and disappeared from sight. There was a moment of suspense. Suddenly he appeared again, his hand raised warningly.

Sst, sst!” he hissed.

Promptly they skipped behind the woodhouse door. In a moment a man’s footsteps were audible; somebody was swinging by the barn, whistling as he went. He called out to the cook as he went by: “Pretty hot, ain’t it? Hey! I say it’s pretty hot!”