“What is it?”

“That is what the G. A. C. is to find out,” I said.  “It is a cipher.”

“It looks like it,” said Jane in a flutering tone.  “Oh, Bab, what are we to do?”

I then explained how I had discovered it and so on.

“Our first duty,” I went on, “is to watch William.  He must be followed and his every movement recorded.  I need not tell you that our mill is making shells, and that the fate of the Country may hang on you today.”

“On me?” said Jane, looking terrafied.

“On you.  I have selected you for this first day.  To-morrow it will be another.  I have not yet decided which.  You must remain secreted here, but watching.  If he goes out, follow him.”

I was again obliged to remind her of my rank and so on, as she sat down and began to object at once.

“The Familey,” I said, “will be out all day at First Aid classes.  You will be safe from discovery.”

Here I am sorry to say Jane disapointed me, for she observed, bitterly: 

“No luncheon, I suppose!”

“Not at all,” I said.  “It is a part of the Plattsburg idea that a good soldier must have nourishment, as his strength is all he has, the Officers providing the brains.”

I then rang for Hannah, and ofered her to dollars to bring Jane a tray at noon and to sneak it from the kitchin, not the pantrey.

“From the kitchin?” she said.  “Miss Bab, it’s as much as my life is worth to go to the kitchin.  The cook and that new Butler are fighting something awfull.”

Jane and I exchanged glances.

“Hannah,” I said, in a low tone, “I can only say this.  If you but do your part you may avert a great calamaty.”

“My God, Miss Bab!” she cried.  “That cook’s a German.  I said so from the beginning.”

“Not the cook, Hannah.”

We were all silent.  It was a terrable moment.  I shortly afterwards left the house, leaving Jane to study flag signals, or wig-waging as vulgarly called, and to watch.

Camp, 4 P. M. Father has just been here.

We were trying to load one of Betty’s uncle’s guns when my Orderley reported a car coming at a furious gate.  On going to the opening of the tent I saw that it was our car with father and Jane inside.  They did not stop in the road, but turned and came into the field, bumping awfully.

Father leaped out and exclaimed: 

“Well!”

He then folded his arms and looked around.

“Upon my word, Bab!” he said.  “You might at least take your Familey into your confidence.  If Jane had not happened to be at the house I’d never have found you.  But never mind about that now.  Have you or have you not seen my leather Dispach Case?”

Alas, my face betrayed me, being one that flushes easily and then turns pale.

“I thought so,” he said, in an angry voice.  “Do you know that you have kept a Board of Directors sitting for three hours, and that—­Bab, you are hopeless!  Where is it?”