Led by these three, the khaki host marched with perfect rhythm halfway down the field and back again.
An awed silence followed. Then rose such a cheer as the ancient barracks had seldom echoed back, even in the old Indian days.
Frightened—all but overcome by her sudden triumph, Norma tried to hide among her now broken ranks, but all in vain.
She was searched out and led to the grandstand. The first person she met was a distinguished-looking, gray-haired man with one empty sleeve.
“Dad!” she cried.
Soon she was being greeted by high-ranking officers and other honored guests.
“I shall recommend you for officers’ training,” the commanding officer whispered in her ear.
“Oh! But I’m not sure that I want to be an officer!” The cry escaped unbidden from Norma’s lips.
“We shall see,” was the reply.
Lieutenant Warren, her beloved Lieutenant, who was standing near, said: