ver, and I haven't told you chaps, but I've been
hoarding every cent of my allowance all winter. I have enough and to
spare for second cabin."

"But your father wants you here out of harm's way," urged the Mexican.

"He _thinks_ he does," said Nickell-Wheelerson smiling, his blue eyes
flashing. "He _thinks_ he does, but I know he is just trying me out.
Here's the way it is. Dad's in the field and my second brother; you
know my oldest brother was shot in the trenches in France two months
ago. I'm nineteen. There are two little chaps to carry on the name
and take care of the title, if the rest of us go. I've just _got_ to
get over there! Don't you see how it is?"

"Of course!" said the Mexican, his dark eyes glowing gloomily. "Of
course you feel you've got to go! And here I must stay. I want to go
home too."

"It's different with you," said Nickell-Wheelerson, patting his
companion on the back. "You keep out of that mess! Mexico is going to
need you worse later on."

"How about you?" demanded Morales, the Mexican. "I should think
England would need you when that mess, as you call it, is finished."

"She needs me now, and I know it, and dad knows it," Nick assured him.
"I'm going _home_! You'd better be glad you are not mixed up in this
thing," he said, turning to the third boy. "You are safe awhile yet,
you old Greece-spot, you!"

"There are some Greeks fighting; a few on the European border of the
Dardanelles," said the boy addressed.

"Oh, of course you will get into it sooner or later," said Nick, "but
I'm banking on that queen of yours to stall things along as far as she
can. She can't put it off forever, though. You will be in it."

"As sure as my name is Zaidos," said the young Greek, "you are quite
right! We will have to fight sooner or later."

"Well, don't cross bridges," said Nick. "Sit tight, and I'll go over
there and help clean up things."

Light-heartedly they raced up the steep hill leading from the parade
ground to the mess hall.

A slim young orderly came out of the Adjutant's office onto the terrace
and looked about. Seeing the three boys, he called in a high, clear
voice, "Oh, you Nosey!" and as the Greek approached added formally,
"Corporal Zaidos is wanted by the Adjutant."

"What's he going to get ragged for now, I wonder," mused
Nickell-Wheelerson as he and Morales joined the crowd and went into the
mess hall.

Zaidos did not come back. Nick watched the door an