ully upward as though waving him goodbye, till the brightness of
it was claimed by the darker green below. Then Tim became another man.

"Which way is thot----" he bellowed, but he saw the pear-shaped head
before Jeb could answer. With one gesture of fury he stripped off his
own life belt, and yelled: "Now, ye murderer av women, wan av us is due
in hell, an' 'tain't Tim Doreen, ayther, ye tub av slop!"

He struck out powerfully, straight for the man he had sworn to kill,
but in changing once from the overhand to side stroke he saw Jeb, white
as a sheet, swimming directly behind. Without pausing, he asked:

"W'ot the divil brings ye here?"

"I owe him something, too," Jeb panted. "I'm coming."

For an instant the sergeant forgot his oath, and a slow grin overspread
his face.

"Well, w'ot d'ye know about thot?" he said. "God bless ye, lad; but ye
can help best by settin' on the box. 'Tis me own fight; do as I tell ye,
now!"

Jeb could not have described that fight, because he was too far off to
see distinctly--and Tim never referred to it. But he saw the German,
when Tim had come to within ten feet of him, turn and begin swimming
frantically away. There was doubtless something in the sergeant's eyes
that sapped the other's courage. Relentlessly Tim gained, each stroke
bringing him a few inches nearer, till he seemed to crawl up on the
officer's back. After that they might have been two splashing fish--till
Tim began slowly to swim back.

"God, Tim," Jeb cried, holding out a hand. "I wish you'd let me come!
I--I believe I might have done it!"

The sergeant drew himself on the tippy box, and panted:

"Ye'll have a chance, lad whin ye see ither dastardly things thim
outcasts do! No man can keep from fightin', Jeb! Shure, an' the Boches
make their own wur-rst inimies!"

He sat despondently, regaining his breath and blinking the water from
his eyes, when something caught to a sleeve button on his tunic made him
stare. It was a short piece of black-and-white striped ribbon--the Order
of the Iron Cross--which the German had worn in a breast button-hole of
his uniform.

"Well, w'ot d'ye know about thot," he mused.

Slowly he twisted off the button, and the ribbon with it, then leaned
above the spot where the little nurse's hair had waved her last
farewell, and let them sink.

"'Tis me first dicoration, darlin'," he whispered; and it was not the
ocean water now that blinded him.

Just as the red sun dipped that