attention toward the girl, who had stood, silent and

motionless, behind me as I pumped death into my enemies and

hers from my automatic rifle.

She was of medium height, well formed, and with fine, clear-

cut features. Her forehead was high, and her eyes both

intelligent and beautiful. Exposure to the sun had browned

a smooth and velvety skin to a shade which seemed to enhance

rather than mar an altogether lovely picture of youthful

femininity.

A trace of apprehension marked her expression--I cannot call

it fear since I have learned to know her--and astonishment

was still apparent in her eyes. She stood quite erect, her

hands still bound behind her, and met my gaze with level,

proud return.

"What language do you speak?" I asked. "Do you understand

mine?"

"Yes," she replied. "It is similar to my own. I am

Grabritin. What are you?"

"I am a Pan-American," I answered. She shook her head.

"What is that?"

I pointed toward the west. "Far away, across the ocean."

Her expression altered a trifle. A slight frown contracted

her brow. The expression of apprehension deepened.

"Take off your cap," she said, and when, to humor her

strange request, I did as she bid, she appeared relieved.

Then she edged to one side and leaned over seemingly to peer

behind me. I turned quickly to see what she discovered, but

finding nothing, wheeled about to see that her expression

was once more altered.

"You are not from there?" and she pointed toward the east.

It was a half question. "You are not from across the water

there?"

"No," I assured her. "I am from Pan-America, far away to

the west. Have you ever heard of Pan-America?"