His interpretation of duty worked upward
as downward. Officers and privates were acted on by the force known as
Sergeant Fones. Some people, like Old Brown Windsor, spoke hardly and
openly of this force. There were three people who never did--Pretty
Pierre, Young Aleck, and Mab Humphrey. Pierre hated him; Young Aleck
admired in him a quality lying dormant in himself--decision; Mab Humphrey
spoke unkindly of no one. Besides--but no!
What was Sergeant Fones's country? No one knew. Where had he come from?
No one asked him more than once. He could talk French with Pierre,
--a kind of French that sometimes made the undertone of red in the
Frenchman's cheeks darker. He had been heard to speak German to a German
prisoner, and once, when a gang of Italians were making trouble on a line
of railway under construction, he arrested the leader, and, in a few
swift, sharp words in the language of the rioters, settled the business.
He had no accent that betrayed his nationality.
He had been recommended for a commission. The officer in command had
hinted that the Sergeant might get a Christmas present.
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