The Monticellonian., 1915-02-18

bell brought Lanstron to his feet with startled. boyish bound.
 Very springy. that tendon of Achilles!" muttered Partow. And, my boy. take care, take carei" he called suddenly in his sonorous voice, as vast and billowy as his body. It was Marta's voice and yet not Marta's, this voice that beat in nery- ous waves over the wire.
 "Lanny-Yes, I. Lanny! You were right. Westerling planned to make war deliberately to satisfy his ambition. He told me so. The first general at tack on the first line of defense Is to- night. Westerling says sol" She had to pause for breath. And, Lanny, l want to know some position of the Browns which is weak-not actually weak, maybe, but some position where the Grays expect terrible resistance and will not find it-where you will let them in!"
 "In the name of-Marta! Marta, what"
 q am going to fight for the Browns for my home!"
 In the sheer satisfaction of explain ing herself to herself, of voicing her sentiments, she sent the pictures which had wrought the change moving across the screen before Lanstron's amazed vision. There was no room for inter- ruption on his part, no question or need of one. The wire seemed to quiver with the militant tension of her spirit It was Marta afame who was talking at the other end; not aflame for him, but with a purpose that re- vealed all the latent strength of her personality and daring.
 T shall have to ask Partow. It's pretty big thing"
 "Yes-only that is not all my plan. my little plan. After they have taken the first line of defense-and they will get it, won't they?"
 Yes, we shall yield in the end, yield rather than suffer too great losses there that will weaken the defense on the main line"
 Then want to know where 1t is lCdl gOu Wdul w 65ltIllllS u dLldCh OH the main line, so that we can get him to attack there. That-that will help, won't it?"
 Yes"
 Of course, all the while I shall be getting news from him-when l have proved my loyalty and have his con- plete confidence-and I'll telephone 1t to you. l am sure I can get something worth while with you to direct me; don't you think so, Lanny? I'll hold the wire, Lanny. Ask Partow!" she concluded. Of the two she was the steadier.
 "Well?" said Partow, looking up at the sound of Lanstrons step. Then he half raised himself from his chair at sight of a Lanstron with eyes in a daze of brilliancy; a Lanstron with his maimed hand twitching in an out stretched gesture; a Lanstron in the dilemma of being at the same time lover and chief of intelligence. Should he let her make the sacrifice of every thing that he held to be sacred to a woman's delicacy? Should he not re- turn to lue lelepHOHe anu tell her that he would not permit her to play such a part? Partow's voice cut in on his decentralization with the sharpness of blade.
 Well, what, man, what?" he de- handed. He feared that the girl might be dead. Anything that could upset Lanstron in this fashion struck chord of sympathy and apprehension.
 Lanstron advanced to the table, pressed his hands on the edge, and, now master of himself, began an ac- count of Marta's offer. Partow's form less arms lay inert on the table, his soft, pudgy fingers outspread on the map and his bulk settled deep in the chair. while his eagle eyes were see ing through Lanstron, through a noun tain range, into the eyes of woman and general on the veranda of an