"Who's Jackson Gee? Does father know him? Has he any polar bears?
Aren't you going to tell me about that?"

The tidal wave of questions almost overwhelmed the historian and his
auditor. But the military, fortunately, was equal to the emergency.
With a tactical turn of his hand he thrust the remnant of the lollypop
between the chattering jaws and spoke with sharp rapidity.

"Listen," he commanded, "that there, what you got, is a magic candy,
and if you go on exposing it to the air after it is once in your mouth
it's likely to disappear, just like that." And the speed of the
translation was illustrated by a smart snapping of the fingers.

Doubt shone in the juvenile terror's eyes and the earlier generations
waited fearfully while skepticism and greed waged their recurrent
conflict. For a time it seemed as if the veteran had blundered; but
finally greed triumphed and a temporary peace ensued.

"Where was I?" inquired the interrupted narrator when the issue of
battle was settled.

"You was talking about Jackson Gee," answered the guardsman in a
cautiously low tone.

"So I was, so I was," the old gentleman agreed somewhat vaguely,
nodding his head. He gazed at the sergeant with mingled awe and
admiration. "I suppose it's quite useless to mention it," he said
rather wistfully, "but if you ever get out of the army and should want
a job.... You could name your own salary, you know?" The question
ended on an appealing note.

Evidently the soldier understood the digression, for he replied in a
tone that would brook no dispute. "No, sir, I couldn't consider it."

"I was afraid so," said the other regretfully, and added, with
apparent irrelevance, "I have to live with him, you see."

"Tough luck," commiserated the listener.

Reluctantly summoning his thoughts from the pleasant contemplation of
what had seemed to offer a new era of peace, the bard turned to his
story.

* * * * *

"A few hours later," he continued, "I had a telephone call from
Drayle's wife, and I realized from the fright in her voice that
something dreadful had happened. She asked me to come to the house at
once. Chris had been hurt. But she disconnected before I could ask for
details. I started immediately and I wondered as I drove what disaster
had overtaken him. Anything, it seemed to me, might have befallen in
that room of miracles. But I was not prepared to find that Drayle had
been shot and wounded.

"The poli