t
for you?"

She looked away at the squirrels; she tried in vain to speak in her
gay, light tone. "I--I found out something this morning, too."

So Arcady lured two new explorers, who, going through its subtly winding
paths, naturally took quite a little while to reach the club-house and
the ovation waiting the champion. Just outside the portals Lady Jean
uttered a little cry. "Why, I do believe! Why, _Willy_! There's the
motor mower!"

There in the body, resting amid long lines of green stubble, there,
indeed, stood the long-sought mower.

"I'm obliged to it," said Willy, "but I don't need it now."

THE HERO OF COMPANY G

The flies and the sun! The sun and the flies! The two tents of the
division ward in the hospital had been pitched end to end, thus turning
them into one. The sun filtered through the cracks of the canvas; it
poured in a broad, dancing, shifting column of gold through the open
tent flap. The air was hot, not an endurable, dry heat, but a moist,
sticky heat which drew an intolerable mist from the water standing in
pools beneath the plain flooring of the tents. The flies had no barrier
and they entered in noisome companies, to swarm, heavily buzzing, about
the medicine spoons and the tumblers and crawl over the nostrils and
mouths of the typhoid patients, too weak and stupid to brush them away.
The other sick men would lift their feeble skeletons of hands against
them; and a tall soldier who walked between the cots and was the sole
nurse on duty, waved his palm-leaf fan at them and swore softly under
his breath.

There were ten serious cases in the ward. The soldier was a raw man
detailed only the day before and not used to nursing, being a blacksmith
in civil life. An overworked surgeon had instructed him in the use of a
thermometer; but he was much more confident of the success of his lesson
than the instructed one. There was one case in particular bothered the
nurse; he returned to the cot where this case lay more than once and
eyed the gaunt figure which lay so quietly under the sheet, with a
dejected attention. Once he laid his hand shyly on the sick man's
forehead, and when he took it away he strangled a desperate sort of
sigh. Then he walked to the end of the tent and stared dismally down the
camp street, flooded with sunshine. "Well, thank God, there's Spruce!"
said he. A man in a khaki uniform, carrying a bale of mosquito netting,
was walking smartly through the glare. He stoppe