Jack Benson knew, now, that he was dealing with a woman who knew herself
to be a patriot--a lover of her country.
"I don't know that I have any right to say anything," Jack answered,
evasively. "Mr. Millard is a civil engineer, isn't he?"
"Yes, and a mechanical engineer, too," the girl admitted, without
attempt at concealment "As you also doubtless know, he served, once,
with a revolutionary army in Guatemala. It is in some sort of scrape
like this that he finds him self now. Some trouble that he has gotten
himself into with this government in order to befriend the
revolutionists of some Central American republic."
"Did Millard tell you so?" demanded Jack Benson, his eyes now very wide
open.
"He let me believe as much," the girl replied, one hand toying with a
fold of her dress, while she glanced down. "And that is the truth,
is it not?"
"No!" broke, half-angrily, from young Benson. The passion would have
rung in his denial, but he remembered that he was talking to this girl
about her betrothed husband.
"You spoke of the Flag a moment ago," cried the girl, suddenly, and
gazing searchingly into the boy's eyes.
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