"There are two things that could be done to them," continued the
civilian. "One would be to put them out of the way altogether, and
the other would be to bring disgrace upon them so that they'd be
kicked out of the Army. That would break their hearts, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," muttered Mock, "but you're talking dreams, neighbor. I'm
no black-hander, to creep up behind them with a knife, or take
a pot shot at them. I'm not quite that kind, neighbor, and it
couldn't be done, anyway."

"You could put 'em out of the way, and no one would be the wiser,"
hinted the stranger.

"How?"

"I'll show you, when I'm sure enough that you're game," declared
the civilian. "I'd have to be sure you had the nerve."

"I haven't," admitted Private Mock.

"Do you know, I began to think that before you admitted it?" sneered
the other.

"Not the way you mean," flared up the ex-sergeant. "I can be
mean in order to get square with a mean officer. But I can get
along without putting him under the sod. I'm a good hater, but
my mother didn't raise me to be a real crook."

"You're a quitter, I guess," jeered the other. "Anyway, if you
claim to be a man of sand you'll have to show me."