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“Trust me on that, sir,” said Jackrum. Behind Blouse, Polly brushed the razor up and down the red stone. It was already as slick as ice. “But our boys, Sergeant, are not old ‘soldiers.’ It takes pff two weeks to turn a recruit into a ‘fighting man,’” said the lieutenant. “They’re promising material, sir. I could do it in a couple of days, sir,” said Jackrum. “Perks?” Polly nearly sliced her thumb off. “Yes, Sarge,” she quavered. “Do you think you could kill a man today?” Polly glanced at the razor. The edge glowed. “I’m sorry to say I think I could, sir!”
