Panama arrived at the field hospital just a few minutes after Elinor,
tired of waiting, had left.
One of the nurses informed him that if he hurried, he might catch up
with her before she reached the women’s barracks.
Without a word, he ran through the narrow streets of tents, out on to
the main road that led into town. Just ahead of him, he spied the trim,
silhouetted figure of the nurse, strolling along in the moonlight.
It was a beautiful tropical night, and the silver-white clouds in the
sky and the full, warm moon casting its pure, white light over the black
tops of the silent, old Spanish Mission, built hundreds of years before,
filled the heart of the soldier with a romantic fervor. His pulse
quickened and his step became more buoyant. It was a perfect setting for
the scene he had hoped to enact with Elinor that night.
Here was a man and a woman, alone in a great, intoxicating world of
warmth and romance, walking in the shadows of an old, ancestral Mission,
the walls of which had looked down upon similar romantic episodes
enacted by great Spanish grandees and their ladies, long centuries
before.
As he ran breathlessly to catch up with the girl, he thought, “If she
will respond to this night and background as I have, the rest will be
easy.”
“Elinor, wait a moment,” he shouted.
The girl stopped just before the old Mission gate and waited for Panama,
now only a few feet away.
“I thought you had forgotten about me,” she said, holding out her hand
which the sergeant grasped eagerly as he reached her side.
“Forget about you? Oh, Elinor, I—I couldn’t ever do that! You see, I
only landed a few minutes before Steve told me you were here and——”
“I understand,” she interrupted. “It was selfish of me to ask you to
meet me when you must be dead to the world.”
Panama smiled sheepishly as he looked down, conscious of the fact that
he was still holding her hand in his. They both felt a trifle
uncomfortable when Elinor, emitting a nervous, apologetic laugh,
released her hand.
“I’m never too tired to see you,” he said softly. “Besides, I wasn’t a
bit anxious to hit the hay anyway.”
He hesitated for a moment and then, summing up enough courage, took her
arm as they started down the road past the Mission gate.
“Look at that moon, Panama!” Elinor exclaimed exultantly. “Isn’t it
romantic?”
His heart beat faster by leaps and bounds. He thought that now surely
was the moment to take her in his arms and whisper all of the things he
had been planning to tell her during the six months, but as usual, words
failed him and he merely nodded his head, saying, “Yeah, it is sorta
nice, ain’t it?”
She sighed deeply and Panama believed she was impatient, waiting for him
to speak, though inwardly, she was longing for someone else, a tall,
indifferent, handsome boy whose image filled her heart with a million
yearnings since the day she had first met him.
They had been walking for more than fifteen minutes with the Marine
sergeant remaining inarticulate as ever. Finally Elinor broke the
silence by asking where he was taking her.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he replied in a characteristic, blunt fashion. “Any
place, it doesn’t matter!”
“Let’s walk down by the tents,” she suggested, hoping that if they went
in that direction, Lefty might make a sudden appearance.
“Aw, no,” Williams objected, hoping to keep her on the lonely road so
that when he regained his lost courage, there would be no intruders to
interrupt their romance. “Let’s keep on goin’ this way, the—er—the
scenery is much nicer!”
He stole a sidelong glance at her, fearing that she might further
protest to their continuing along the Mission road, but she didn’t
speak. Her arm found its way into his and he felt a peculiar sensation
up and down his spine.
“Gee, this is swell, ain’t it, Elinor?”
“What is?”
His face flushed a vivid crimson and he was thankful to a dark night for
hiding his excited emotions. “Why—er—everything,” he stammered, “the
moon and—er—well, everything!”
Just over beyond the Mission, some natives were chanting dreamy Spanish
songs of love to the accompaniment of strumming guitars.
“Listen to that lovely music!” Elinor exclaimed, completely enthralled.
“It’s all so—so perfectly beautiful!”
“Just like a storybook, ain’t it?” was Panama’s description.
“You’ve spent a lot of time in the tropics, haven’t you, Panama?”
“Three years at the Canal, a year and a half in Haiti and now back here
for the second time,” he replied in a dreamy manner. “I think it’s
great! This part of the world is just like apple pie to me!”
“Do you like apple pie?” Elinor asked for want of something better to
say.
“Sure, when it’s homemade! Don’t you?”
Elinor struggled to suppress a giggle, and with a sombre look, replied,
“Why, yes—surely—I guess everybody does.”
“My mother made swell pie,” he explained. “You don’t get much of that
sort of thing knockin’ around in this racket. Sometimes I sorta want to
quit it all and get a regular job where I can have a home and——”
“Yes, I understand,” she interrupted. “Men want that kind of a life
after a certain age, don’t they, Panama?”
“I don’t know about that,” he said, a trifle piqued at her mention of
his advancing years, “I ain’t so old!”
She gasped slightly, realizing that she had hurt him by her thoughtless
remark and hurried to explain, “Why, of course you’re not! What I meant
was——”
“Oh, it’s all right, I don’t mind,” he said. “I don’t mind anything you
say!”
They had reached the end of the road by this time, and Panama took the
girl’s arm, turning off to the right, making sure that they would take
the longest way back to camp.
Just ahead of them was the thatched roof hut of a native family, no
different from hundreds of others that dotted the landscape throughout
that section of the country.
A proud young mother sat on the doorstep, nursing a dark-skinned infant.
As the Marine and the girl approached, she looked up at them and smiled,
showing two rows of white, pearly teeth. Panama left the road and walked
over to the hut, picking the baby up in his arms as Elinor followed
after him.
“Gee, I get a great kick out of all kinds of babies!” he announced with
enthusiasm, looking over his shoulder at Elinor, who was standing just
behind him. “Do you like kids?”
She nodded her head in affirmation and gently patted the little fellow.
“My, but he’s a cute little rascal!”
The hard-boiled sergeant kissed the infant and, with much concern,
handed it back to the anxious mother, also taking a coin from his pocket
and placing it in the baby’s small hand.
As they started back toward the road, Williams pulled a tropical flower
from a bush, and gave it to the girl.
“These flowers remind me of a barber shop,” he explained, at loss to
think of a more appropriate comparison, “only they’ve got cologne beat
all hollow, ain’t they?”
Elinor’s intuition warned her that it was time to sidetrack Panama’s
flow of romantic thoughts and crude manner of expression, so she
conveniently changed the trend of conversation by asking about Lefty in
an assumed manner of indifference.
“He’s fine and tickled pink with his first taste of campaign duty!”
Williams replied.
“Are you living together?”
“Sure thing! We’re pals! Say—listen to that music now. Ain’t it grand?”
She walked a little ahead of him, completely enveloped with the magic of
the dreamy, tropical music, listening ecstatically, unmindful of the
nervous state Panama was in as he fumbled for the diamond ring through
his pockets.
He finally discovered it and brought it out, half hiding it as he
struggled to gain enough courage to broach the subject he had promised
himself to bring up that night.
As he stopped to rehearse the words over again in his mind, Elinor
turned about suddenly and faced him.
“Tell me, Panama, how is Lefty coming along?”
Her sudden manner of direct approach startled him so, that he dropped
the ring from his hand and without looking to see where it fell,
stammered, “Oh—er—Lefty? Oh, yeah, he’s fine! Sure, he’s over in camp
now, workin’!”
He hated to search for the lost ring while Elinor was watching, though
he couldn’t very well afford to lose it. Intensely embarrassed, he began
to look about the ground as the girl watched him, keenly amused.
“Did you drop something?” she asked.
“No, well, yes—but it’s nothing,” he fabricated, lighting a match and
dropping to his knees to search the path more thoroughly, “I’ll find it
in a minute.”
Her expression changed to one of interest as she dropped down beside
him, helping in the search for whatever the lost object might be.
“Please don’t bother, Elinor,” he begged as he looked up and found her
beside him. “Really, it ain’t much and I know just where it dropped.”
Just then, her eyes fell upon a small, sparkling object a few inches
from where she was resting on her knees. She reached forward and picked
up the ring in her hand, unnoticed by Panama who was still delving into
the grass by the roadway.
She rose to her feet and looked at the small diamond, suddenly struck by
the realization that he had brought her all the way out here, hoping to
gain enough courage to propose. Her eyes softened and she gazed down at
Panama tenderly, shaking her head as she sympathized with the man over
the futility of his hopes just as she pitied herself over her own
failure to win Lefty.
“Panama,” she said sweetly, with a ring of tolerance in her voice.
The man turned about, fumbling nervously with his hands as he noticed
the telltale object she was holding in the palm of her outstretched
hand.
“Is this what you’ve been looking for?” she asked, pretending to be
ignorant of the ring’s true purpose.
“Why, yeah—sure!” he replied, clumsily bringing himself to his feet
again and unable to look at her. “I—er—I can’t imagine how it could have
fallen out of my pocket!”
“The way we came, past the Mission,” she asked, “that’s the shortest
road back, isn’t it?”
“Oh, sure, if you want to go that way,” he announced, putting the ring
away in the pocket of his blouse, glad to once more have it out of
sight.
“I—I think we’d better,” she said, “I’ve had a long trip and——”
“I understand, and I’m pretty tired now, anyway,” he interrupted,
turning about and leading her back the way they had come, still
conscious of the faux pas he made regarding the engagement ring, “You
know somethin’?”
“What?”
“That ring I lost—” he stammered. “Well, I bought that for—er—my aunt!”
“You don’t say?” Elinor replied, assuming an attitude of complete
ignorance. “When did you buy it?”
“Oh—er—before I left Pensacola, I think.”
“As long ago as that?” she asked. “Why, I should think you would have
sent it to her by this time.”
“Yeah, I should have, only—well—I just don’t seem to find the time!”
“Then supposing you give me her address and I’ll send it for you,” she
suggested mischievously. “If you carry it around with you, you may lose
it.”
Panama’s cheeks flushed and he bit his lips, looking at Elinor
appealingly and wondering to himself what kind of a jam he was in for
now.
“No—I—er—I’ve kept it so long and—well—I guess we’ll he goin’ back soon
and——”
“Sergeant Williams!” he heard a familiar voice call, and looking just
ahead, saw Steve Graham running toward them.
Though he had never liked this product of the San Francisco pool
parlors, at that particular moment, he welcomed the boy’s arrival with
open arms, knowing that the intrusion would relieve him of having to
make further explanations regarding the ring.
“What do you want, Graham?”
The boy came up alongside of them and seeing Elinor, touched the peak of
his cap with his hand as she smiled in acknowledgment.
“Can I see you for a minute, sergeant?”
Panama excused himself and left the girl standing alone as he and Steve
walked a little to the side of the row, entering into earnest
conversation.
“That mechanic of yours left camp all dolled up in his dress uniform,”
the corporal explained. “He was headed for the Cantina and I tried to
stop him, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Elinor couldn’t help but overhear what Steve had said and, as she
thought of Lefty, mixed up with a lot of native women in a local
barroom, helpless under the intoxicating influence of bad liquor, her
blood ran cold and her face became chalk white.
“If the military police find out where he’s gone,” Steve went on to
explain, “you know where he’ll land!”
Panama’s eyes narrowed and he bit his lips, inwardly furious over
Lefty’s blunt disobedience in the face of all that had happened back in
the tent.
“Run along, Graham,” he told the boy, in a manner of dismissal, “and
forget about what you saw. I’ll have him back in half an hour if I got
to drag him!”
Steve grinned with understanding and bowing slightly to Elinor, ran
back, up the road to camp, satisfied that he had done his duty by God,
country and the Marine Corps.
Elinor stood twitching her fingers from nervousness, waiting for Panama
to do something, but as the sergeant continued to remain motionless,
merely looking after the disappearing Graham, she came over to his side
and tugged at the sleeve of his blouse.
“I couldn’t help but hearing,” she said. “Is Lefty in trouble?”
Panama turned and looked down at her, still livid with rage over the
mechanic’s insubordination.
“I told that fool to stay in camp,” he roared. “He’s goin’ to learn
who’s boss around here and do as he’s told!”
Fearful for the boy’s safety and worried that his escapade might send
him to a military prison, thus ruining any possible chance of winning
his wings in the future, she held the angered sergeant’s arm tightly and
pleaded: “Don’t be too hard on him, Panama; he doesn’t understand!”
“I’ve got to bring him back or he’ll land in the brig,” Williams
explained, his voice softening as he once more became the man and not
the hard-boiled sergeant. “You won’t mind, will you?”
Barely able to conceal her personal concern over Lefty’s welfare, she
fairly pushed Panama forward, urging him on his way, feeling that there
wasn’t a minute to be lost.
“Never mind me,” she said, “I can find my way back alone, only please
hurry and get him!”