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* * * * *
[Illustration: "IS THE TWENTY-EIGHTH GOING OVER THIS WEEK?"]
CAPTAIN LUCY
AND
LIEUTENANT BOB
BY
ALINE HAVARD
AUTHOR OF
CAPTAIN LUCY IN FRANCE
[Illustration]
_Illustrated by_
RALPH P. COLEMAN
PHILADELPHIA
THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY
1920
COPYRIGHT
1918 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
[Illustration:Logo]
Captain Lucy and Lieutenant Bob
Introduction
Some of the girls who read this first story of Lucy Gordon's army life
have spent their lives on army posts as well as she, and perhaps have
even lived on Governor's Island. A good many others, though, have only
visited posts, and have never felt that they knew much about the life
of army girls, except that it was full of sudden changes. But in this
last year the American army has grown very real and absorbing to every
girl in America. Not one of them but has become an army girl in spirit,
with some strong tie to bind her to our posts, to our training camps,
or to our fighters on the Western Front.
The war is as yet only beginning for Lucy Gordon, and the old, pleasant
times are just ending, but, like every other girl in America, she is
trying hard to find the courage and cheerfulness which have never yet
been wanting in our Service and which are going to help America to win.
In "Captain Lucy in France" she sees the perilous "Front" for herself,
and has a small part in some great events.
ALINE HAVARD.
Contents
I. MARIAN ARRIVES 9
II. PARADE 23
III. THE MYSTERY OF THE TWENTY-EIGHTH 39
IV. LIEUTENANT BOB 59
V. "MY ORDERS HAVE COME" 79
VI. GOOD-BYES 92
VII. A TOUGH JOB 107
VIII. OVER THE TRENCHES 122
IX. BEHIND THE ENEMY'S LINES 141
X. A GUST OF WIND 164
XI. FIRST AID 184
XII. LOCKED DOORS 205
XIII. "COME IN, COMRADE!" 226
XIV. A LETTER FROM LONDON 248
XV. ONE CHANCE OUT OF FIFTY 267
XVI. THE FLYING MAN 285
XVII. OVER THE FRONTIER 302
XVIII. CAPTAIN LUCY 322
Illustrations
PAGE
"IS THE TWENTY-EIGHTH GOING OVER THIS
WEEK?" _Frontispiece_
"MY ORDERS HAVE COME" 86
"YOU MAY HELP THE ALLIES TO VICTORY" 135
"LETTER, PLEASE", SAID A TIMID VOICE 196
"I DID NOT KNOW WHERE I SHOULD LAND" 291
Captain Lucy and Lieutenant Bob
CHAPTER I
MARIAN ARRIVES
"The Major's glasses, if you please, Miss Lucy," said Sergeant Cameron,
pausing in the doorway with a bow. Lucy, who had run down-stairs on
hearing the bell, smiled a good-morning to the tall, soldierly figure
that blocked the sunlit entrance, and went into Major Gordon's study
for the forgotten glasses.
"I was to tell Mrs. Gordon for the Major," Sergeant Cameron added when
Lucy returned to the door, "that the guests expected to-day will come
over on the twelve o'clock boat. The Major had a telephone message at
his office, from the city."
"Oh, all right, Sergeant. I'll tell Mother," said Lucy, whereupon the
non-commissioned officer turned smartly on his heel and made off in the
direction of the Headquarters Building.
It was a beautiful July morning on Governor's Island, and beyond the
tree-dotted lawns between the rows of officers' quarters, the parade
ground was alive with marching men;--companies of Infantry which had
drilled there for hours, a little part of the mammoth war activity that
pervaded the post, the headquarters of the Army's Eastern Department. A
faint breeze blew from across New York Harbor, fluttering the flag on
the ramparts, but the air was very hot.
Lucy ran up-stairs again to her room and dropped down in front of her
mirror to tie the ribbon at the back of her smoothly brushed hair,
while she called out to the maid who was mounting the stairs after her,
"Oh, Elizabeth, Father just sent word that the Leslies will be here for
lunch,--on the twelve o'clock boat."
"Yes, Miss Lucy," answered Elizabeth's pleasant, guttural voice. "You
tell your mother, will you?"
"Oh, yes, I'm going right away."
Lucy gave a last tug at the ribbon, a doubtful glance at her mop of
fair hair, which with the best of efforts never stayed smooth very
long, and rose to her feet. She was not tall for fourteen years, and
her dresses were still short, but since her last birthday she had begun
to take a little more pains with her appearance, as was shown just now
by her returning to tidy up again after feeding the squirrels. The
face reflected in the glass was a very attractive one, with its frank,
bright hazel eyes and lips ever ready to smile. But Lucy never spent
much time in wondering whether she looked "nice" or not. There was more
than that to do just now on Governor's Island.
She ran down-stairs two steps at a time and, shooing out an inquiring
squirrel which was coming in by the screen door William had left open,
went out on the piazza. On the steps sat a curly-headed five-year-old
boy, the baby of the Gordon family.
"Come on, William! Come with me?" asked Lucy, holding out a hand to the
little boy, who jumped off the steps and trotted along beside her.
"Where you going, Lucy?" he inquired as they followed the brick
walk along the line of quarters called "General's Row," because the
General's house heads it, toward the path crossing over to the other
officers' line or "Colonel's Row."
"Over to see Mother about something," said Lucy, continuing her way
around the foot of Colonel's Row to where, after five minutes' walk,
the water of the harbor gleamed through the trees and the Officers'
Club showed by the tennis courts at the end of the parade.
In one of the second floor rooms of the big, yellow brick building the
Red Cross had its headquarters, and here Lucy and William were bound
as they entered the wide archway and followed the stairs leading to
the ballroom and upper floor. A buzz of ladies' voices came from the
doorway, beyond which twenty or thirty officers' wives and daughters
were hard at work over tables piled with gauze and muslin. Mrs. Gordon
looked up from folding a long three-yard roll and smiled a welcome as
Lucy entered with William close behind.
"Are you looking for me, daughter?" she asked, while Julia Houston,
Lucy's best friend on the post, ran over, scissors in hand, to say:
"Do stay, Lucy, won't you, and we can work together."
"I'm afraid I can't this morning, Julia. I came only to tell Mother
about the Leslies."
"When are they coming? Did Father hear from them?" asked Mrs. Gordon,
pausing in her work.
"Yes, he sent word we were to expect them on the noon boat, and, oh,
Mother, what do you suppose Marian will be like?" demanded Lucy, giving
her mother's arm a squeeze in her eager curiosity.
"You'll know before long, dear, and no doubt you'll like her very
much," said Mrs. Gordon, speaking without any great conviction in her
voice, as she went on with her folding.
"Is your cousin going to stay with you all summer?" asked Julia, who
had taken yards of selvage cuttings from about her shoulders, and was
showing William how to wind them into neat little balls.
"Yes, Marian is going to stay until her father comes back from
California. Cousin Henry has to look after his lumber camps out there.
The Government wants his wood for ships, so he has to leave in a hurry."
"Haven't you ever seen her, Lucy? Don't you know what she's like?"
asked Julia curiously, tossing back her dark braids, as she looked up
from William's laborious winding.
"Oh, yes, I saw her once about three years ago, when we were both
twelve. She has always been delicate, and can't do a great deal, though
Father says she is much better now. But she is awfully pretty," Lucy
added, with a sudden enthusiasm her first words had lacked. "I think
she'll like it here, don't you, Julia?"
"Of course," said Julia, who was sure any one would like army life.
"Come, Lucy, we had better go. We won't have more than time to meet the
boat," said Mrs. Gordon, putting away her work. "Will you tie up the
rest of these rolls, Mrs. Andrews?" she asked of the lady beside her,
who agreed with a smile and added with a glance at Lucy:
"You'd better bring your cousin to parade to-morrow afternoon, Lucy. The
whole regiment is to march." Mrs. Andrews was the wife of the Colonel
of the island's Infantry regiment.
"Oh, I will, Mrs. Andrews," said Lucy, leaning down to free William
from the yards of strips he had got wound about his arms and hands in
the course of his work.
"William--why do you always get so tied up with everything? Come,
hurry! Mother's waiting. Good-bye, Julia."
Once outside the club, Mrs. Gordon said to her daughter, "We have
fifteen minutes, so there's no need to walk fast in this heat. We can
keep under the trees by the edge of the parade as far as the top of the
hill."
Lucy was hardly listening. Her eyes were bent on the ground but
suddenly she raised them to her mother and asked eagerly, "How do
you honestly think we'll get along with Marian, Mother? I can't help
wondering, because she's been so used to everything she wants. Perhaps
she'll hate it here, and won't stay."
"Don't borrow trouble, dear," advised Mrs. Gordon, raising her parasol
as they left the shade to cross the wide grassy space from Colonel's to
General's Row. "Cousin Henry is so good himself, I am sure his little
girl must have a great deal that is nice about her, and if she is a
little selfish and trying, remember she has been ill a long time.
Cousin Henry has been a good friend to you children; you know he got
Bob his appointment to West Point, and Father is devoted to him. We are
only too glad to do a little for him now in return."
They had reached the General's house at the head of the little slope
leading to the dock, and New York Harbor, gleaming in the morning
sunlight, lay below them.
"There's the boat, just coming in," said Lucy, starting down the hill
as the army ferry _General Hancock_ drew slowly inshore, while a
soldier on the dock let down the chains that held the gangway.
There were few passengers at this hour, most of the hundreds having
government business coming earlier in the day, and only half a dozen
people from the officers' cabin stepped ashore where Lucy and her
mother and William stood waiting. The last to land was a tall, thin
gentleman in a cool-looking pongee suit, with one arm around the
shoulders of a slender girl about Lucy's size and dressed all in white.
"There they are, Mother. Hello, Cousin Henry! Hello, Marian!" cried
Lucy, all her doubts forgotten at sight of Mr. Leslie's cheerful smile
and Marian's pretty face.
Mrs. Gordon made haste to give them a cordial welcome, and as she bent
to kiss Marian she asked hopefully, "You'll like it here with us,
won't you, dear? We're so glad to have you."
Marian gave a faint little smile as she answered, "Yes, Cousin Sally,"
and held out her hand to Lucy, while Mr. Leslie exclaimed with the
friendly heartiness that made everybody like him:
"Why, Sally, Lucy, William! I never was so glad to see any one in my
life! I wish I could stay here with Marian. This post must be a great
place to see things, these days, and if I'm not mistaken, here's the
Major himself coming to meet us."
He pointed toward the slope of the hill, down which a tall figure in
summer olive-drab service uniform was swinging at a rapid walk.
"Why, so it is Father," said Lucy. "He didn't expect to be able to
leave Headquarters in time to come, but he's managed it somehow."
Major Gordon, acting chief quartermaster of the post, had, since the
declaration of war, had so much work to do that his leisure moments
were exceedingly scarce, and his spare, bronzed face wore a look of
fatigue. But he was well used to long and hard service, and his voice
sounded hearty and cheerful as he greeted his cousin and looked with
kindly questioning into Marian's face, with its pale-rose-leaf cheeks,
wide violet eyes, and somewhat tremulous lips which looked as though
pouting were not altogether a forgotten art to them.
"Well, little Marian, we're going to make an army girl of you before we
get through--make you hate to leave us," he promised, giving a gentle
pull to one of Marian's curls, which, tied with a ribbon behind her
neck in a lovely mass of gold, Lucy had been admiring in silence while
the others exchanged their greetings.
Major Gordon led the Way on up the little slope with Mrs. Gordon
and Mr. Leslie, leaving the children to follow, which they did very
quietly, as Marian did not volunteer any remarks, and Lucy did not feel
like beginning to ask questions yet. William, running along beside his
sister, fixed a wide-eyed stare on his new cousin which made Lucy want
to laugh as she began pointing out places of interest on the post, when
they had reached the top of the slope.
"This is General's Row, Marian, where we live, and across the grass
there is Colonel's Row, that other line of houses. All the officers on
the General's staff live on this side of the island, and beyond the
parade you can see the officers' quarters of the Infantry regiment
stationed here. Those big sheds, way over beyond the houses, have just
been put up for the recruits there is no room for. That big grassy
stretch is the parade. The men have gone in to dinner now, but you'll
see them drilling again this afternoon. They are all working terribly
hard getting the new men into shape before they get orders for
the front."
Lucy stopped, feeling she had never made such a long speech in her
life, as Marian did not encourage her by asking any questions, but
merely said, after a second's pause, "Yes, I suppose so," with a glance
around her which Lucy felt sure was more one of politeness than real
interest.
In another minute they had reached the Gordons' house in the line of
square, yellow, pleasant looking officers' quarters, and entered the
screened-in piazza. Mr. Leslie stopped in the doorway to poke his cane
in the direction of an inquiring squirrel which was frisking about his
feet with all the impudent tameness of a privileged pet.
"Isn't he a cunning little fellow, Marian?" he asked his daughter, who
had come up and slipped her arm through his, with a little more life in
her face as she returned her father's smile.
"Yes, he is," she nodded, laughing faintly, as the squirrel ran over
her white shoe, leaving dusty little tracks across the toe.
"Luncheon is ready," announced Mrs. Gordon, coming out of the house.
"We have it at half-past twelve on account of James. He has to get back
so early to the office."
In spite of the warm day every one came in and sat down to eat very
willingly, though Lucy watched Marian, wondering how their somewhat
simplified war-time fare would please her pampered taste. Evidently
it was not very successful, for Marian hardly touched anything, and
answered Mrs. Gordon's anxious inquiries by saying politely that she
was not very hungry to-day. Mrs. Gordon was not at all satisfied to
see her little guest make her lunch from a few string beans and half
a dozen strawberries when her delicate cheeks and thin, little hands
showed her decided need of nourishment, but she said nothing more for
the present. Mr. Leslie, whose management of his ailing, motherless
little daughter consisted in either coaxing her to obey him or letting
her do what she liked, added a mild suggestion that she drink the glass
of milk Mrs. Gordon provided, but did not gain his point. William drank
the milk afterward, on top of a hearty meal.
After lunch Major Gordon took Mr. Leslie for a short tour of the post,
which was to end at his office, from which Mr. Leslie would return
to the house. Mrs. Gordon persuaded Marian to come up-stairs and lie
down until her father's return, so as not to be too tired on her first
day at Governor's Island. Marian was willing enough to rest for a
while, as she was in the habit of doing. Lucy closed the door of the
darkened room, from which Marian could hear the sharp commands of the
company captains, once more drilling their men on the parade, and ran
down-stairs, secretly wondering how any one could want to go to sleep
at this hour on a beautiful day, at a new army post she had had no
chance to explore.
Through the doorway she caught sight of Julia Houston running across
the grass with black braids flying, and went swiftly out to meet her.
"Did they come?" were Julia's first words, and Lucy plunged into an
account of the new cousins, which, however, grew pretty meagre and
evasive so far as Marian was concerned.
"Of course I don't really know her yet, though, Julia," she explained
for her lack of enthusiasm. "She's lying down now, but you will see her
later."
"Oh, poor little thing,--she's still ill, then?" asked warm-hearted
Julia, ready to make allowances.
"Yes, I don't know just how much," said Lucy doubtfully.
"Well, listen to me a minute, Lucy." Julia took her friend's arm and
drew her down on the steps of the Gordon house. "What I really came to
ask you about was this." Her voice dropped a little. "Have you heard
your father say anything about the Twenty-Eighth sailing for France
this week, or that those drills they keep at every second of the day
are their last on this side? Of course your father would know, when he
has charge of the supplies,--and I'm sure it's so," ended Julia, her
eyes bright and earnest.
"Oh, Julia, you know how Father is about secrets,--especially lately.
I wouldn't know one thing if everybody on the post were leaving
to-night," said Lucy, her lips wavering to a smile, though her face was
thoughtful. "How I wish I knew, though," she added, looking off toward
the moving lines of men, dust-brown against the green. "Where did you
hear it, anyway?"
"I didn't hear it, I just guessed it, because the Infantry officers are
so queer and silent now, when you ask them questions. Mr. Alling was at
our house last night, and he would hardly speak of the latest Infantry
orders, and when they don't know what to expect themselves they talk
and surmise, about it as much as anybody. Besides, they are working so
terribly hard,--in the regiment, I mean, not among the recruits. And
hasn't your father been rushed to death, lately, without giving any
particular reason?"
Lucy was silent, pondering, her father's tired face before her eyes. "I
don't know, Julia," she said at last. "I wish we did. I'll ask Father
to tell me,--wouldn't any secret be safe with us? But he won't."
Julia got up, staring over the parade with frowning brows. The
mysterious secrecy of these first sailings of American troops for the
far-off battle front, lest the watchful submarines learn more accurate
news of their coming than they already picked up by unknown means, was
to the eager, loyal children of the post a very thrilling problem of
uncertainty. Twice already had a regiment, newly arrived at the island
for an uncertain stay, slipped away in the darkness or the dawn to
its transports, and each time, thanks to the silent tongues and the
battle-ships waiting to convoy them, they had reached the other side in
safety. And now was the home regiment to follow?
"I suppose we might just as well stop racking our brains," Julia
said at last, putting aside her perplexed thoughts with her usual
impulsiveness. "Come to the Red Cross to-morrow morning, Lucy? We can
do that much, anyhow."
"Yes, I'll come," responded Lucy, still thoughtful. Then she added
with sudden earnestness, "But I'm not going to let the Twenty-Eighth
disappear as the others did! If that regiment sails this week, Julia,
I'm going to be there to see it off."