Brandon of the Engineers

"I'm thankful our official duty's done," he said. "Of course, I'm taking

an irregular line, and if you prefer not to talk--"

"You made me feel that you wanted to be my friend," Dick replied

awkwardly.

"Then I may, perhaps, remark that you made a bad defense. In the army,

it's better to tell a plausible tale and stick to it; we like an obvious

explanation. Now if you had admitted being slightly drunk."

"But I was sober!"

The Adjutant smiled impatiently.

"So much the worse for you! If you had been drunk, you'd have been turned

out all the same, but the reason would have been, so to speak,

satisfactory. Now you're tainted by a worse suspicion. Personally, I

don't think the lost plans have any value, but if they had, it might have

gone very hard with you." He paused and gave Dick a friendly glance.

"Well, in parting, I'll give you a bit of advice. Stick to engineering,

which you have a talent for."

He went out and not long afterward Dick left the camp in civilian's

clothes, but stopped his motorcycle on the hill and stood looking back

with a pain at his heart. He saw the rows of tents stretched across the

smooth pasture, the flag he had been proud to serve languidly flapping on

the gentle breeze, and the water sparkling about the bridge. Along the

riverside, bare-armed men in shirts and trousers were throwing up banks

of soil with shovels that flashed in the strong light. He could see their

cheerful brown faces and a smart young subaltern taking out a measuring

line. Dick liked the boy, who now no doubt would pass him without a look,

and he envied him with the keenest envy he had ever felt. He had loved

his profession; and he was turned out of it in disgrace.

It was evening when he stood in the spacious library at home, glad that

the light was fading, as he confronted his father, who sat with grim face

in a big leather chair. Dick had no brothers and sisters, and his mother

had died long before. He had not lived much at home, and had been on

good, more than affectionate, terms with his father. Indeed, their

relations were marked by mutual indulgence, for Dick had no interest

outside his profession, while Mr. Brandon occupied himself with politics

and enjoyed his prominent place in local society. He was conventional and

his manners were formal and dignified, but Dick thought him very much

like Lance, although he had not Lance's genial humor.

"Well," he said when Dick had finished, "you have made a very bad mess of

things and it is, of course, impossible that you should remain here. In

fact, you have rendered it difficult for me to meet my neighbors and take

my usual part in public affairs."