Twenty-Three and a Half Hours’ Leave by Mary Roberts Rinehart, Fiction, Romance, Historical, War & Military

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I think the Old Man likes me, went on Sergeant Gray meditatively. It’s about a week now since he told me I was a disgrace to the uniform. How’d I know I was going to sneeze in his horse’s ear just as he was climbing on? – Suffering snakes! cried the second mess sergeant. Go to bed! You’re delirious. Sergeant Gray put a dimple in the girl’s cheek and surveyed it critically. – Yep. The old boy’s crazy about me, he ruminated aloud. Asked me the other day if I thought I’d fight the Germans as hard as I fought work. – Probably be asking you to breakfast, observed the second mess sergeant, beginning on a new sheet. He’s in the habit of having noncoms to eat with him. The subtlety of this passed over Sergeant Gray’s head. He was carefully adding a small ear to his drawing, an ear which resembled an interrogation point. But a seed had been dropped on the fertile soil of his mind. He finished, yawned again and grinned. All right, he said. _ C'est la guerre, _as the old boy says. I’ll lay you two dollars to one I eat breakfast with him within a month. His imagination grew with the thought. Wait! I’ll eat bran muffins with him at breakfast within a month. How’s that? – A bran muffin with the Old Man! he chuckled. A bran muffin! A –