“On me?” said Jane, looking terrafied.
“On you. I have selected you for this first day. To-morrow it will be another. I have not yet decided which. You must remain secreted here, but watching. If he goes out, follow him.”
I was again obliged to remind her of my rank and so on, as she sat down and began to object at once.
“The Familey,” I said, “will be out all day at First Aid classes. You will be safe from discovery.”
Here I am sorry to say Jane disapointed me, for she observed, bitterly:
“No luncheon, I suppose!”
“Not at all,” I said. “It is a part of the Plattsburg idea that a good soldier must have nourishment, as his strength is all he has, the Officers providing the brains.”
I then rang for Hannah, and ofered her to dollars to bring Jane a tray at noon and to sneak it from the kitchin, not the pantrey.
“From the kitchin?” she said. “Miss Bab, it’s as much as my life is worth to go to the kitchin. The cook and that new Butler are fighting something awfull.”
Jane and I exchanged glances.