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He broke off in swift, unspeakable amazement. His eye traveled up

the slender figure from the telltale skirt. This was no boy at

all, but a girl. As he took in the mass of blue-black hair and

the soft but clean-cut modeling from ear to chin, his hand fell

from her shoulder. What an idiot he had been not to know from the

first that such a voice could have come only from a woman! He had

been deceived by the darkness and by the slouch hat she wore. He

wanted to laugh in sardonic scorn of his perception.

But on the heel of that came a realization of her danger. He must

get her out of there at once, for he knew that the enemy must be

circling round, to take them on the flank too. It was not a

question of whether they could hold off the attackers. They might

do that, and yet she might be killed while they were doing it. A

man used to coping with emergencies, his brain now swiftly worked

out a way of escape.