examination and superficial treatment of his wounds, he was taken in a
guard-car to a field hospital in the rear of the lines. But space in
these field hospitals is too precious to permit of wounded men who can
be moved without fatal results, remaining in them for long periods.
The stream of newcomers is too constant and too pressing. So, after
five days, Pen was sent, by way of Amiens, to the hospital in the
suburbs of Rouen. He, himself, knew little of where he was or of what
was being done for him. A bullet had grazed his right arm, and a
clubbed musket or revolver had laid his scalp open to the bone. But
these were slight injuries in comparison with the awful wound in his
breast. Torn flesh, shattered bones, pierced lungs, these things left
life hanging by the slenderest thread. When the _medecin-chef_ of the
hospital near Rouen took his first look at the boy after his arrival,
he had him put under the influence of an anaesthetic in order that he
could the more readily and effectively examine, probe and dress the
wound, and remove any irritating splinters of bone that might be the
cause of the continuous leakage from the lungs. But when he had
finished his delicate and strenuous task he turned to the nurse at his
side and gave a hopeless shake of his head and shrug of his shoulders.

"_Fichu!_" he said; "_le laisser tranquille_."

"But I am not going to let him die," she replied; "he is too young,
too handsome, too brave, and _he is an American_."

He smiled, shook his head again and passed on to the next case. The
girl was an American too, and these American nurses were always so
optimistic, so faithfully persistent, she might pull him through,
but--the smile of incredulity still lay on the lips of the
_medecin-chef_.

The next day the young soldier was better. The leakage had not yet
wholly ceased; but the wound was apparently beginning to heal. He was
still dazed, and his pain was still too severe to be endured without
opiates. It was five days later that he came fully to his senses, was
able to articulate, and to frame intelligent sentences. He indicated
to his nurse, Miss Byron, that he wished to have his mother written
to.

"No especial message," he whispered, "just that I am here--have been
wounded--recovering."

But the nurse had already learned from other men of Pen's company,
less seriously wounded than he, who were at the same hospital,
something about the boy's desperate bravery, and how his stern