At first all was dark and silent. Then I heard the trickle of running water, and a moment later a sneeze. The lost was found!
“Aggie!” I said sternly.
“Hush, for Heaven’s sake! They’ll hear you.”
“Where are you?”
“B-b-behind the trough,” she said, her teeth chattering. “Run and get my bathrobe, Lizzie. Those d-d-dratted boys have been there for an hour.”
Well, I had brought it with me, and she had her slippers; and we started back. I must say that Aggie was a strange figure, however, and one of the boys said after we had passed: “Well, fellows, war’s hell, all right.”
“If you saw it too I feel better,” said another. “I thought maybe this frog liquor was doing things to me.”
Aggie, however, was sneezing and did not hear.
I come now to that part of my narrative which relates to Charlie Sands’ raid and the results which followed it. I felt a certain anxiety about telling Tish of the dangerous work in which he was engaged, and waited until her morning tea had fortified her. She was, I remember, sitting on a rock directing Mr. Burton, who was changing a tire.
“A raid?” she said. “What sort of a raid?”