Laguerre.

So when he looked at me my heels clicked together, my arm bent to my
hat and fell again to my trouser seam, and I stood at attention. It
was as instinctive as though I were back at the Academy, and he had
confronted me in the uniform and yellow sash of a major-general.

"And what do you know of military orders, sir," he demanded, in a low
voice, "that you feel competent to pass upon mine?"

Still standing at attention, I said: "For the last three years I have
been at West Point, sir, and have listened to nothing else."

"You have been at West Point?" he said, slowly, looking at me in
surprise and with evident doubt. "When did you leave the Academy?"

"Two weeks ago," I answered. At this, he looked even more incredulous.

"How does it happen," he asked, "if you are preparing for the army at
West Point, that you are now travelling in Honduras?"

"I was dismissed from the Academy two weeks ago," I answered. "This
was the only place where there was any fighting, so I came here. I
read that you had formed a Foreign Legion, and thought that maybe you
would let me join it."

General Laguerre now stared at me in genuine amazement. In his
interest in the supposed spy, he had forgotten the loss of his guns.

"You came from West Point," he repeated, incredulously, "all the way