longing to know. “And was it in Egypt that you met my father? Did Mr. Morton know my father very long?”

“I don’t know anything about that, Miss; Mr. John didn’t tell me much.”

“Then you and Mr. Morton—you are not officers or soldiers in our—the Roumelian Army?”

“Why, bless your hearts, miss, so far as I am concerned, I didn’t know such a place as Roumelia was on the map ten days ago; and it’s very little more that I know now! Mr. John, he came to me the night we got to Suez, saying I should get ready to take the midnight train, go to Brindisi and act under written orders—and I went. From there I took a train to Kronstadt; and four days ago I drove the teams down to Padina with the dagoes—that’s all I know. When Mr. Morton gives you orders you ain’t askin’ no useless questions, I guess. He knows what he wants—and you are supposed to go ahead and do what you’re told. But you needn’t worry,