"And it also says, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,' " McCoy said. "And that 'he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.' "

Banning looked at him for a long moment before he spoke.

"I'm not absolutely sure about this," he said finally. "Your knife was evidence in a court-martial. But now that there's not going to be a court-martial, maybe I can get it back for you."

"Thank you," McCoy said. "I'd hate to have to buy another one."

(Two)

On the way back to his office, Captain Banning wondered why in their meeting PFC/Corporal McCoy had not said "Yes, sir" as often as he was expected to-using the phrase as sort of military verbal punctuation.

And he wondered why he himself, except that once, hadn't called him on it. The fact, he concluded after a while, was that McCoy was neither intentionally discourteous nor insolent; and that the discussion had been between them as men, not officer and PFC. In other words, the kid had understood - either from instinct or from smarts - what was the correct tone to take with him.

The more he saw of McCoy, the more he learned about him, the more impressed he became both with his intelligence (his score on the written promotion examination should have prepared him for that, but it hadn't) and with his toughness. He was a very tough young man. But not entirely. Within, there was a soft center of young boy, who wished to sneak off and be a spy-for the pure glamour of it, and the romance.

He could not, of course, permit him to snoop around the Japanese, both because he would get caught doing it (always an embarrassment with the Japanese) and because it was very likely that the Japanese would in fact "accidentally" kill him… or, if they wanted to send a message to the Americans, behead him with a sword, and then arrange for his head to be delivered in a box.

Before the convoy left for Tientsin and Peking, Banning took McCoy aside and made it as clear as he could that he was to leave what espionage there was to Lieutenant John Macklin, who was the officer charged with conducting it. He was to go nowhere and do nothing that the other enlisted men on the convoy did not do.

McCoy said, "Aye, aye, sir."

Banning felt a little sorry for him when he saw him climb into the cab of a Studebaker truck. While it was true that the danger of infection of the small caliber wound was over, it was also true that the little slug had caused some muscle damage, and the operation to remove the slug much more. What muscle fibers weren't torn were severely bruised. It was going to be a very painful trip over a long and bumpy road.

Almost a month to the day later, the convoy returned.

Two days later Lieutenant Macklin furnished Banning with a neatly typed-up report-a report that exceedingly dissatisfied him. Because he had acted with much too much caution, Macklin had not found out what Banning had told him to find out. And he had, for all his caution, been caught snooping by the Japanese.

They hadn't actually caught Macklin in a situation where they could credibly claim espionage, they just found him

somewhere that the officer in charge of a supply convoy should not have been.

There were a number of legalities and unwritten laws involving the relationship between the Japanese Imperial Army in China and the military forces of the French, the Italians, the English, and the Americans. Captain Banning had come to China briefed on many of them. And his years in China had taught him much more. He had a pretty good sense by now of the rules of the game.

What the Japanese had done when they caught Macklin was what they had done before.

They had, as brother officers, courteously invited him to visit their headquarters. They then took him on an exhausting inspection of the area, with particular emphasis on the garbage dumps, rifle ranges, and other fascinating aspects of their operation. Then they brought him to the mess, where several profusely apologetic Japanese officers spilled their drinks on him while they got him drunk. At dinner they managed to spill in his lap a large vessel of something greasy, sticky, and absolutely impervious to cleaning.

The idea was to make him lose face. As usual, they succeeded.

Corporal Kenneth J. McCoy came to the S-2 office just after noon the day Banning received Macklin's report. He apologized for taking so long. But he explained that his gunnery sergeant had run him over to S-1 to take care of the paperwork that went with his promotion to corporal. This had not been taken care of when he had been shipped off to Peking.

"How's your leg?" Banning asked. "Bother you on the trip?" He didn't seem bothered by McCoy's delay in reporting to him-or else he didn't believe the kid would have anything worth reporting.

"It was rough on the way up, sir," McCoy said.

"All right now, though?"

"Yes, sir," McCoy said.

"Well, whether or not you like it, McCoy," Banning said, "I'm going to have to use you as a clerk."

"I thought that was probably going to happen," McCoy said.

"I'm sorry you're not pleased," Banning said. "But that's the way it's going to have to be."

"Captain, I've got something to say, and I don't know how to go about saying it."

"Spit it out," Banning said.

"The 111th and 113th Regiments of the 22nd Infantry Division are going to be moved from Sьchow to Nantung, where they are going to be mobilized."

"Mobilized?" Banning asked, confused.

"I mean they're going to get trucks to replace their horses.''

"You mean motorized," Banning corrected, chuckling.

"Yeah, motorized," McCoy said. "Sorry, sir. And then," he went on, "the 119th Regiment is going to stay at Sьchow, reinforced by a regiment, I don't know which one, of 41st Division. Then, when the 111th and 113th come back, the 119th'll go to Nantung and get their trucks, and the other regiment will go back where it came from. When the whole division has trucks, they're going to move to Tsinan."

"You're sure of this?" Banning said, sarcastically.

"A couple of whores told me," McCoy said. "And I checked it out."

"Now, Corporal McCoy, why do you suppose Lieutenant Macklin's report doesn't mention this?"

As he spoke, Banning almost kicked himself for coming to Macklin's defense. And yet he knew he couldn't really help himself: Macklin was an officer, and officers do not admit to enlisted men that any other officer is less than an officer should be. But more important, there was bad chemistry between himself and Macklin. And Banning felt guilty about it, guilty enough to protect the lieutenant when he really shouldn't be protected.

Banning just did not like Macklin. He was a tall, dark-haired, fine-featured man, who fairly could be called handsome, and whose face seemed as bright and intelligent as it was handsome. The problem was that he was not nearly as bright as he looked-much less than he thought he was. The first time Banning had laid eye on him, he had pegged him as the sort of man who substituted charm for substance, someone who spoke very carefully, never causing offense, never in a position he couldn't escape from by claiming misunderstanding.

"Well, I told you I didn't know how to say it," McCoy said. "I told him what I heard, and he laughed at me. But he's wrong. Whores know."

The truth was, Banning knew, that whores did indeed know.

"You said you 'checked it out,' " Banning said.

"Yes, sir."

"How?"

"I checked it out, sir," McCoy replied.

"You said that, and I asked you how."

"Sir, you told me not to go snooping around the Japs, and I'm afraid you're going to think I did anyhow."

"Why would I think that?" Banning asked.

"Well," McCoy said uneasily, "I got pretty close to them." He paused and then blurted, "I went to Nantung, Captain."

"You're telling me you went to Nantung? Without orders?"