out of earshot when a lieutenant of
another regiment who had had a difference about a right of way with
Spruce's captain and been worsted by Spruce's knowledge of military
traditions freed his mind about that "bumptious regular who was so keen
to fight, but (he noticed) was hanging on to his sick detail, now the
regiment had a chance to see a few Spaniards." Spruce, in his properly
buttoned uniform, his face red with the heat and something of the words,
saluted rigorously and passed by, not a single muscle twitching. All the
while he was thinking: "I'm glad he don't belong to _my_ town! God! If
anybody was to write them things about me!"

By this time the town was not only his town, but he was sure that he was
a figure in the conversation of the place. Thus his anxiety of mind
increased daily. He kept it from his charges, who grew stronger all the
week, and the next; and he read such papers as drifted out to the camp
and such shreds of news about the fighting with frantic interest.
Danvers was able to sit up at the end of three weeks, but most of the
boys were further along, walking about the wards, or gone back to their
regiment.

"You get out, Chris," said Danvers, "we all know you're on your head
with aching to go. _We're_ all right; and I'm off home on furlough
to-morrow; I'll get straightened out there quicker, and I'll be after
you next week, see if I don't! I knew you'd be hanging on, so I won't
give you the excuse. My sister's coming to-morrow."

"Really, Dick," gasped Spruce, "and you--you're sure the other boys are
so's I can leave?"

"Well, you know there are going to be some women from the Red Cross,
last of the week--Oh, by the time we are all out of it, this will be a
swell hospital, with all the luxuries! Spruce, go, and don't get hurt,
or I'll murder you!"

Spruce giggled like a happy girl. He was on his way to put in his
application to join his regiment the next day--after Dick Danvers'
sister had arrived, when something happened. He did not exactly know
what it was himself, until he felt the water on his forehead and tried
to lift himself up from the sand, catching the arm of the
surgeon-in-chief. "Sunstroke, doctor?" he whispered.

"Just fainted," the surgeon answered cheerfully, "you've been overdoing
it in this heat. Be careful."

"Oh, it's nothing, sir," Spruce grinned back; "had it lots of times,
only not so bad. All the boys git giddy heads--"

Somehow the ready words faltered off his t