busy all the time, and--and I have nothing to eat all night. You see,
all other Greek soldiers was hurt; and me, I must stay to keep the
Turks from the hill. Very busy time, Sir. And I am not much for
fight, anyway."

"Great Scott!" says Skid. "He says he's not much for--but see here,
how did it end?"

Popover gives a shoulder shrug. "Once more they run at me after you
go," says he, "and then come our brave Greek General with big army and
chase Turks away. And the Captain say why am I such big fool as to
stay behind. That is all I know. Three weeks ago I am discharged from
being soldier. Now I come back here, and I have no more my good job.
I am much sorry."

"Think of that!" breaks out Skid. "Talk about the ingratitude of
Republics! Why, England would have given him the Victoria Cross for
that! But can't something or other be done about this job of his?"

"Why, certainly," says Mr. Robert. "Here, let's go back into my
office."

"Hey, Popover," says I, steerin' him respectful through the gate.
"Don't forget to tell them about Armina too."

And as the three of 'em streams in, with the waiter in the middle, I
turns to find Piddie gazin' at the sight button-eyed.

"Wa'n't you sayin' how much you'd like to see the lone hero of the
hill?" says I. "Well, take a good look. That's him, the squatty one.
Uh-huh. Mike, alias Popover, who quit bein' a waiter to fight for his
country, and after he'd licked all the Turks in sight comes pikin' back
here to hunt around for his tray again. Say, all of 'em ain't such
scum, are they?"

It was a great old banquet too; for Skid insists that if they must have
a conquerin' hero to drink to Mr. Popokoulis is the only real thing in
sight. Mike wouldn't stand for a seat at the table, though; so they
compromised by havin' him act as head waiter. Skid tells the story
just the same, and makes him stand out where they can all see him.
There was some cheerin' done too. Mr. Robert was tellin' me about it
only this mornin'.

"And you've got him his old place at the club, eh?" says I.

"No," says he. "I've arranged to buy out a half interest in a
florist's shop for Mr. Popokoulis."

"Oh!" says I. "Backin' him for the Armina handicap, eh? It ought to
be a cinch. Some chap, that Popover, even if he was a waiter, eh?
It's tough on Piddie, though. This thing has tied all his ideas in
double bow-knots."

CHAPTER X

MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT

Somehow I sense