Panama excused himself and left the girl standing alone as he and Steve walked a little to the side of the row, entering into earnest conversation. “That mechanic of yours left camp all dolled up in his dress uniform,” the corporal explained. “He was headed for the Cantina and I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen.” Elinor couldn’t help but overhear what Steve had said and, as she thought of Lefty, mixed up with a lot of native women in a local barroom, helpless under the intoxicating influence of bad liquor, her blood ran cold and her face became chalk white. “If the military police find out where he’s gone,” Steve went on to explain, “you know where he’ll land!” Panama’s eyes narrowed and he bit his lips, inwardly furious over Lefty’s blunt disobedience in the face of all that had happened back in the tent. “Run along, Graham,” he told the boy, in a manner of dismissal, “and forget about what you saw. I’ll have him back in half an hour if I got to drag him!” Steve grinned with understanding and bowing slightly to Elinor, ran back, up the road to camp, satisfied that he had done his duty by God, country and the Marine Corps. Elinor stood twitching her fingers from nervousness, waiting for Panama to do something, but as the sergeant continued to remain motionless, merely looking after the disappearing Graham, she came over to his side and tugged at the sleeve of his blouse. “I couldn’t help but hearing,” she said. “Is Lefty in trouble?” Panama turned and looked down at her, still livid with rage over the mechanic’s insubordination. “I told that fool to stay in camp,” he roared. “He’s goin’ to learn who’s boss around here and do as he’s told!” Fearful for the boy’s safety and worried that his escapade might send him to a military prison, thus ruining any possible chance of winning his wings in the future, she held the angered sergeant’s arm tightly and pleaded: “Don’t be too hard on him, Panama; he doesn’t understand!” “I’ve got to bring him back or he’ll land in the brig,” Williams explained, his voice softening as he once more became the man and not the hard-boiled sergeant. “You won’t mind, will you?” Barely able to conceal her personal concern over Lefty’s welfare, she fairly pushed Panama forward, urging him on his way, feeling that there wasn’t a minute to be lost. “Never mind me,” she said, “I can find my way back alone, only please hurry and get him!” CHAPTER XIV Of all the numerous places in Managua that offered various kinds of diversion to Marines on temporary leaves of absence, the most interesting was the Cantina la Flora. This center of life, music and wine probably intrigued the American soldiers of the sea and air because it was a strict breach of Marine rules for a uniformed man to be seen beyond the cafe’s entrance. The Cantina la Flora was just ten or fifteen feet off the main road, directly on the outskirts of the city.