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eased up. “Who the hell ordered you to fire?”
    “Huh?” said Toughey.
    “I said who the hell told you to shoot?”
    “Well, for Christ’s sake!” wailed Toughey. “They was almost ridin’ over the top of
     the car! I had to do something, didn’t I?”
    “The next time you get ideas,” said Mitchell, “tell me first. Did you hit anybody?”
    “Well . . . no. You was hittin’ the bumps so hard I couldn’t even get a squint through
     the peep. I was just guessin’.”
    Mitchell sighed with relief but he did not relent. “As long as I’m in command of this
     landin’ party, there’s going to be a minimum of provocation for incidents, see? We
     aren’t trying to fight this war, we’re trying to get to Shunkien.”
    Toughey subsided and was gloomy for almost a minute. Then he perked up and took off
     his cap and selected a cigarette and a match and lit up.
    The girl was staring sideways at Mitchell with some wonder. “What are you talking
     about, ‘landing party’? There’s only two of you.”
    Mitchell’s dignity was hurt. “That don’t make any difference. We’re ashore, aren’t
     we? And we’re on duty, aren’t we? What are you doing running around China alone?”
    “I wasn’t alone. I had a driver but he beat it. Listen, Captain—”
    “I’m not a captain. I’m a gunnery sergeant.”
    “That’s higher’n a captain,” added Toughey from the rear seat.
    “Oh,” said the girl, disappointed. She looked with some distrust at Mitchell and then
     edged a little toward the door.
    “What are you doing running around here?” persisted Mitchell.
    She scowled a little thoughtfully and then looked at him. “My father is a millionaire
     and he owns a lot of land near here and the troops tried to steal everything. They
     kidnaped my father but I managed to get away and ran into a battle this afternoon.”
    Mitchell looked at her for an instant. He saw the platinum hair and the jaunty little
     hat which had a brim to it like a jockey’s and the mascara and the powder and the
     rouge. He did not object to any of these things. In fact he rather favored them. But
     he noted them all the same.
    “Gee, a millionaire?” said Toughey.
    “Sure, and if you boys would put me someplace where there wasn’t a war on, he’d make
     it worth your while. Plenty. Maybe a couple hundred dollars apiece.”
    Mitchell smiled quietly to himself and kept driving.
    “Hell, lady,” said Toughey, “we’re goin’ to Shunkien and we got—”
    “Shut up,” said Mitchell. “I’m sorry, but you got to go with us, lady, no matter where
     we’re going, unless you want that incident back there repeated.”
    “How come everybody got so mad all of a sudden?” said Toughey.
    “Yeah, what was that all about?” said the girl.
    “Oh, I told him we were the advance guard of a company and he tried to stall me. He
     was raising the dickens with you because he thought he could take some cash off of
     you. The rest was just a stall, like my regiment of Marines. And when that trooper
     saw the plain was empty behind us, they got soured, that’s all. Most of these fellows
     are fifty percent patriot and fifty percent brigand .”
    “Gee, you talk elegant sometimes,” said the girl.
    Mitchell favored her with a grin, but the light on his face was only that from the
     instrument panel and she read it wrong. She edged further away from him and looked
     uncomfortable.
    “Now if this buggy will only hold out,” said Toughey, “we’ll get to Shunkien in style.”
    And a few minutes later, the engine began to wheeze and gasp and then it stopped and
     the night was very still.
    Mitchell looked into the gas tank and rocked the car. “Dry,” he announced. “Unload.”
    Toughey got down and swung the keg up on his shoulder once more, letting out a weary,
     hungry groan. The girl looked scared.
    “Gee, we got to walk?” she said, staring at the rough road which fanned out before
     the headlights.
    Mitchell looked at