“You are to drive slowly to-day. At the first indication of recklessness or the slightest disobedience of orders I shall call an officer to place you under arrest for insubordination. Do you get me clearly?”
“I get you quite clearly, Madame,” answered Grace smilingly. “What speed – three, five, ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty or forty miles?”
“You know what I mean. I ordered you to drive slowly.”
Grace swung into the highway and started off at a speed of about five miles an hour, but she had not gone far ere the rasping voice of her superior ordered her to drive, not creep.
The speed of the car was increased to ten miles an hour, but beyond this the Overton girl would not go, despite the insistent demands of Mrs. Smythe. Finally exasperated beyond measure, Grace stopped the car at the side of the road and faced her supervisor.
“Perhaps, Madame, you would prefer to have Miss Briggs drive the car?”
“No, thank you,” spoke up Elfreda.
“Are you a safe driver?” demanded Mrs. Smythe.
“Very, but I am not a skilled driver.”
“Take the wheel. You can do no worse than the present driver.”
“I will settle with you for this later,” muttered J. Elfreda in a low voice to her companion. “I call this a low-down trick. I probably shall turn you all over in the ditch.”
“Go as far as you like,” answered Grace, getting out to enable Elfreda to take the driver’s seat. Miss Briggs fumbled, stalled the car, but after a few back-fires succeeded in getting under way, the passenger growing more and more irritable as the moments passed.
Elfreda shot ahead with a jolt that brought a torrent of abuse from the supervisor, and narrowly missed smashing into an officer’s car ahead. A few rods further on, in attempting to dodge an army truck, J. Elfreda Briggs came to grief. One of the rear wheels of the army automobile slipped from the road into a shallow ditch, the wheels sank into the soft mud and the car began to settle, threatening every second to turn over on its side. Grace snapped off the spark and silenced the motors, her quick action saving them from a bad spill. Elfreda had wholly lost her head.
“Drive out, drive out!” cried Mrs. Smythe.
“I – I can’t,” gasped Miss Briggs. “The wheels will go around but the car won’t move. What shall I do?”
“We must all get out,” directed Grace.
Just then a car slipped past them and brought up abruptly. Grace observed that it was an officer’s car, but beyond that gave no heed. A second or so later she saw two men get out and walk back toward them.
“I thought I recognized you when we passed, Mrs. Gray,” called a familiar voice. “Are you in need of assistance?”
“Why, Colonel Gordon – I mean General Gordon,” corrected Grace, flushing. “I am glad to see you and glad of the opportunity to congratulate you on your promotion.”
“You are no more delighted to see me than I am to meet you again. I believe this is Miss Briggs, isn’t it? Mrs. Gray and Miss Briggs, meet Captain Boucher of the Intelligence Department.”
The general and the captain shook hands cordially with both Overton girls, the general giving a quick, comprehensive glance at the occupants of the rear seats, and nodding ever so slightly. Grace did not offer to introduce either to the supervisor.
“Mrs. Gray is the young woman who saved my life in the Argonne, Captain. I could tell you a lot more about her, but I know it would embarrass her if I did. Miss Briggs, I did not know that you drove.”
“I don’t,” answered J. Elfreda rather abruptly.
“Oh, yes she does,” insisted Grace. “At least she has just driven us into a ditch. Miss Briggs learned to drive immediately after the armistice was signed, but in doing so she smashed up two army cars and ran over a major. She will soon be up to my record. My latest exploit, General, was trying conclusions with the concrete railing of a bridge yesterday. The bridge won and we all went into the river.”
“Was that your car that I saw hanging over the edge of a bridge near Etain, Mrs. Gray?”
“Yes, sir, that was the car.”
Mrs. Smythe who had been controlling her emotions with some success, now interjected herself into the conversation.
“General, I think I have met you. I am Mrs. Chadsey Smythe, in command of the welfare workers of – ”
The general and the captain saluted, smiled and turned back to Grace.
“That was not the worst of it,” resumed Grace. “I had with me my supervisor, a somewhat irritable person. She went into the river with the rest of us, and of course I went to her rescue and, with the assistance of some doughboys, got her out. My supervisor was not a grateful person – she accused me of trying to drown her.”
The officers laughed heartily.
“That surely was a good joke, Mrs. Gray,” observed the general, regarding her quizzically.
J. Elfreda Briggs had forgotten her own troubles in her delight at the trend of the conversation.
“Let us have the rest of the story. You will pardon us for reminiscing, Mrs. Smythe,” begged the general, observing the angry look on the face of the supervisor. “Listen, Captain. The worst is yet to come. I know Mrs. Gray.”
“There is not much more to relate,” continued Grace smilingly. “I had been driving in a way that did not please my supervisor and she was thoroughly angry with me on that account, and not wholly without reason, for I was going too fast for the crowded condition of the road. Well, the result of all this was that she made complaint against me and I was called before an officer for a hearing.”
“Eh? What’s that?” demanded the general.
“Yes, sir. I was accused of reckless driving and with intent to drown my superior officer.”
“The woman accused you of that?”
“Yes, sir.”
The two officers laughed heartily.
“Ridiculous!” exclaimed the general. “Was the woman suffering from shell shock or was it a chronic condition with her?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, sir,” answered Grace meekly. “As I have already said, I was called before a captain, who among other things questioned me sharply about the decorations I wore, the intimation being that I had no right to them. Of course I do not know who suggested the thought to him. I declined to discuss the matter, taking the liberty of saying to him that General Gordon was familiar with the circumstances of at least one of my decorations.”
“I should say so. Who was the officer?”
“Captain Rowland of the Forty-Ninth, sir.”
“Ah! Please proceed.”
“The captain was of the opinion that I should be punished and was for dismissing me from the army and sending me back to Paris, until I took the liberty of pointing out to him that he had no authority to do so,
