“Arrest those persons, whoever they are. They were trying to break into this house!” shouted Mrs. Smythe. “Listen to me, Buddies, then arrest us if you think best. These were our billets, but while we were out to dinner with some friends, _officers_ (she accentuated the word), our belongings were thrown into the street and the door barred against us. The woman who did it is Mrs. Smythe, supervisor of the welfare workers with the Third Army. We are both welfare workers.” “What’s your name?” demanded the M. P. a little less gruffly. “Grace Harlowe Gray, formerly ambulance driver on the western front.” “You don’t say!” Striding over to the door, the M. P. struck it a blow with his club. “Open that door or I’ll beat it down!” he ordered. “No, no,” begged Grace, laying a restraining hand on his arm. “You must not do that, Buddy. Remember there are women in there behind the barred door. If you break it down you will find yourself in serious difficulties. You were going to arrest us?” she asked teasingly, leading him away from the door. “Arrest nothing. What’s that Chink doing against the wall?” “Watching our outfit. We were out, as I already have told you, when our things were thrown out. The Chinaman was on hand and remained on guard watching the stuff. I know him and will vouch for him, so please don’t bother him.” “It goes if you say so. I know you, but you don’t know me. Where are you going to sleep?” Grace said she did not know and asked him if he knew of a vacant place. The M. P. said there wasn’t one in the village, but that he would turn some fellows out of a cellar and give the place to the two women. “No, you will not,” declared Grace. “Never mind us, we can shift for ourselves if you can rustle a couple of blankets for us. There is a car just up the street; we can sleep in that.” “Five doughboys in it already,” the M. P. informed them. “Have to guess again. I’ll tell you what. There’s a covered lorry further up the street, loaded with supplies. We’ll unload enough of them to give you a place to bunk in, if that will suit you.” “Fine!” glowed Grace. “We shall not be displacing any one and we shall be quite comfortable, I know. Do you make a report of this matter?” “Sure I do. Want me to say anything in particular?” “The truth, nothing but the truth,” she advised. “Elfreda, shall we shoulder our household belongings and move to our Pullman?” “I suppose so, but, my dear, I am bitterly disappointed that you didn’t permit the M. P. to break the door in,” complained J. Elfreda. “You may well be thankful that he did not. We are on the way to enough trouble as it is. Won, will you carry some of our gear?” “Let the Chink go. We men will take care of the stuff,” spoke up an M. P.