“What did she say?” he whispered, forcing down a nervous lump that rose in his throat. “She’s outside,” the boy replied with hesitance. “She wants to talk to you!” Too wrapped up in the belief that, at last, his fondest wishes had culminated in actual realization, Panama remained blind insofar as sensing the truth that lay behind Lefty’s apparent misery and troublesome expression. He bolted pass the boy and was out of the tent in a moment. Once more alone, Phelps dropped down upon the edge of the cot in a forlorn manner, running his fingers through his hair for the want of something to relieve the tenseness that had gripped him. Restless and worried, he rose again and paced back and forth with a nervous, uncertain step, waiting for the inevitable moment when he would again have to face the sergeant after the truth had been disclosed. Following what seemed to be an hour, but was really no more than ten minutes, the flaps parted again and Williams entered, bearing a cold, unrelentless expression of cruelty, feeling very much like a man who had been betrayed by his dearest friend. He faced the boy sternly. His thin, colorless lips were pressed tightly together and his eyes narrowed with growing rage. Nervous and pleading, bearing a miserable look of unquestionable guilt, the boy began to explain the circumstances only to be cut short before a single word had passed his lips. “So that’s the kind of a rat you turned out to be?” Williams began in a cold, upbraiding manner of disdain. “But, listen—” Lefty begged. “I sent you over to my girl to ask something that I was unable to say,” Panama interrupted him again, “and the moment my back was turned, you forgot about me in your own selfish way and made love to her yourself!” “That isn’t so!” the other man insisted vehemently. “You know I wouldn’t double-cross you for a million dollars!” “You wouldn’t double-cross me?” the Marine noncom repeated, emitting a cold, merciless laugh that caused a chill to run right through the other man. “Why, you yellow pup—you ran back on your college, and ran back on the Flying Corps and now you try to knife me!” The boy’s face became livid white and he parted his lips as a sign of protest but the enraged sergeant burst right in upon him again without allowing him an explanation. “Put up your hands and fight, if you ain’t the yellow pup I think you are!” “I don’t want to fight you, Panama,” Lefty appealed in vain. “I don’t want to fight you!” “You mean, you ain’t got guts enough to,” Williams shrieked derisively, “but I’m gonna beat the daylights out of your yellow hulk or know why!” He raised his hand and made a lunge at the boy just as Lefty attempted to shield himself by covering his face with his hands. Panama’s blow was too quick. His clenched fists reached their mark, just on the side of the boy’s head, stunning him for a moment and then arousing him to the act of self-defense.