red leg which the surgeon had told him might later
have to go, he grinned broadly as Jeb clasped his hand. Bonsecours'
greeting also was affectionate and genuine; for, despite his fading hope
of happiness, and the memory of Jeb's face which had worn the stamp of
abject fear twenty-four hours earlier, he was too big a man to refuse
tribute to a manly deed.

"Well, lad," Tim, his mouth drawn with pain, tried to laugh--tried to
"bluff it out" so Jeb would not suspect the truth, "I'm thinkin' thot
life's wan domn hole after anither! First, mind ye, 'tis the swimmin'
hole, thin the shell hole, thin a hole in me leg, an' next we know 'tis
a stay-for-keeps hole in the ground! W'ot a divil av a hole the ould
world is, after all! But me leg'll be all right in a fortnight, lad,"
(oh, Tim, you beloved liar!) "an' thin I'll be back wid the b'ys twict
as strong as iver!"

"That's mighty fine news," Jeb laughed. "But I hope to go back with you
now!"

"I'm not goin' now," Tim cried angrily. "I've swore 'tis not a step I
take till I've said 'God bless ye' to thot angel nurse!"

"There, there, Tim, keep quiet! Haven't I promised that you could?"
Bonsecours smiled at him.

"Thin w'ot's the lad sayin' about takin' me now?"

"Oh, I only meant when you are ready, Tim," Jeb did his part to quiet
the excited little sergeant; then, to the doctor, he added quickly: "I
want to go back with the ambulance, that's all. The Americans landed
yesterday, and----"

"But," the surgeon gasped at this unusual request, "Barrow needs you!"

"I guess he doesn't, so awfully much," Jeb flushed. "If you can possibly
arrange it for me, I'll be greatly obliged. I've--I've just got to get
in the ranks, Doctor! I can't explain what I mean--but it's those
children! Why, if each of the ten million American fellows who
registered for our New Army could see only a part of cruelties I've
seen, they'd break their necks getting over here!--and they wouldn't go
back, either, not even for Christmas, till the last of these German
High-in-Command was in prison, or dead! I'm only asking for a chance to
make good----"

"Cut thot out," Tim called huskily. "It hur-rts me leg!"

Bonsecours laughed but, still protesting, said:

"I can't keep the ambulance waiting!"

"You won't have to; I'm ready now."

"But your kit----?"

"Is on my back, sir."

Two big orderlies came in and picked up the stretcher, whereupon Tim
grew again excited.

"Put me down, ye little run