"Don't mention it, lady," he said. "I seen he was annoying you, and that's why I got rid of him. Some of them amateur soldiers, as soon as they get into uniform, are too fresh. He took advantage of you because your folks were away from home. But don't you worry about that. I'll guard this house until your folks get back."
Miss Farrar protested warmly.
"Really!" she exclaimed; "I need no one to guard me."
But the soldier was obdurate. He motioned his comrade down the road.
"Watch at the turn," he ordered; "he may come back or send some of the Blues to take us. I'll stay here and protect the lady."
Again Miss Farrar protested, but the sergeant, in a benign and fatherly manner, smiled approvingly. Seating himself on the grass outside the fence, he leaned his back against the gatepost, apparently settling himself for conversation.
"Now, how long might it have been," he asked, "before we showed up, that you seen us?"
"I saw you," Miss Farrar said, "when Mr.—when that bicycle scout was talking to me. I saw the red bands on your hats among the bushes."
The sergeant appeared interested.
"But why didn't you let on to him?"