“It’s entirely a matter of your own good,” she said rather coldly.
“I’ll do it!” said Sergeant Gray rashly. “Not a misstep for twenty-four hours. How’s that?”
“It sounds well.”
“The truth is,” confided Sergeant Gray, “I’ve got to be good. He’s watching. He told me so.”
“And if you’re not——”
“Shot against a brick wall probably.” He grinned cheerfully. “Think of that hanging over a fellow, and twenty-three and a half hours’ leave to-morrow.”
“I hope,” she said in the motherly tone she assumed now and then, “that you are going to be awfully careful to-morrow.”
“Did you ever see a cat crossing a wet gutter? Well, that’s me to-morrow. This is no time to take any chances.”
At which probably those particular gods that had Sergeant Gray in their keeping laughed behind their hands.
The girl stopped the car at the camp, and the plaything of destiny descended.