Miss Farrar laughed, and Lathrop moved toward her.

"I deserve worse than being laughed at," he said. "I made a strategic
mistake. I should not have tried to capture you and an army corps at the
same time."

"You," she taunted, "who were always so keen on soldiering, to be taken
prisoner," she lowered her voice, "and by men like that! Aren't they
funny?" she whispered, "and East Side and Tenderloin! It made me
homesick to hear them! I think when not in uniform the little one drives
a taxicab, and the big one is a guard on the elevated."

"They certainly are very 'New York,'" assented Lathrop, "and very
tough."

"I thought," whispered Miss Farrar, "those from New York with the Red
Army were picked men."

"What does it matter?" exclaimed Lathrop. "It's just as humiliating to
be captured by a ballroom boy as by a mere millionaire! I can't insist
on the invading army being entirely recruited from Harvard graduates."

The two Reds either had reached a decision, or agreed that they could
not agree, for they ceased whispering, and crossed to where Lathrop
stood.

"We been talking over your case," explained the sergeant, "and we see
we are in wrong. We see we made a mistake in taking you prisoner. We had
ought to shot you dead. So now we're going to shoot you dead."