Cold Steal

Do you, Bill?”
“Cuff! I mean Cuff, you big goon! Won’t you make him a sergeant?”
“Hah,” the colonel said. “Suppose so, if you teach him the answers. No telling what he’ll do if he doesn’t get enough money to marry that girl. Take away the whole damn golf course! Cass, I’ve got to see to Hattie. Kern’s watching her while she and Rossi are doing a little paper work. Confessions, hah! Want some eggs when I’m through.”
He paused in the doorway.
“Heard from Muir today,” he said. “Muir’s coming back next week. With Rossi out of the way, I’m going to hand things over to Muir. Take a trip. S’pose you’re settling down, hah, Bill?”
“Of course he is!” Cassie said. “And I don’t think you ought to consider any trips, Rutherford. It’s dangerous. Wars, bombings, all sorts of things!”
“Er—in two weeks,” Leonidas said. “M’yes. Two weeks will be enough.”
Two weeks, Leonidas reflected, were always enough in which to tear off a Lieutenant Haseltine story.
“Right,” the colonel said briskly. .“Two weeks. Round the world again, hah?”
“Fine,” Leonidas said. “Splendid.”
“The two of you are crazy!” Cassie said. “You can’t be so foolish! Why, it’s dangerous! Wars, and bombings, and more wars, and more bombings! You simply can’t go around the world! You stay right here in Dalton, where it’s safe, and—and quiet—and—and , restful.”
Leonidas bit his lip.
“Like today?”
“Well,” Cassie said, “well—oh, dear! I can’t say a thing. What’s two weeks enough for?”
Leonidas smiled, and swung his pince-nez.
“The tentative title, as suggested by my dear friend the Maharajah,” he said, “is Cold Steal.”
THE END