Don’t try. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. You’re mine. But I have remembered the horse and have asked this sergeant that a soldier fetch him. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. She was carefree. Ed. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. ” “I wonder,” said Mr.
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