nd as I let in the clutch and turned the wheel, I sniffled. The man's
delight at being allowed to do a turn of any sort under the flag got
me.

"The hideous day wore on; one of the worst I went through. We were
rushing 'em steadily--four badly wounded in the back you know, and one
who could sit up in the front seat with the driver, every trip. About
3:30 as I was going up to the front lines, I struck Ted Firth again
coming down.

"'That you, Johnny?' he shouted as we jammed together, and then: 'Your
friend's got his,' he said. We were caught in a crowd and had to wait,
so we could talk.

"'Oh no!' I groaned. 'Gone west?'

"He shook his head. 'I think not yet. But I'm afraid he's finished. Had
to leave him. Didn't see him till I was loaded up. He's been
stretcher-bearer the last three hours.'

"'The devil he has. Why?'

"'A sudden attack--bearer was killed. He jumped in and grabbed the
stretcher. Powerful old boy. Back and forth from the hurricane to the
little dressing station, and at last he got it. Thick to-day, isn't
it?'

"'Stretcher-bearer!' I repeated. 'Nerve for a new bird.'

"'Nerve!' echoed Teddy. 'He's been eating it up. The hotter it got, the
better it suited. He's one of the heroes fast enough. If he lives, he's
due a cross for his last stunt--out under fire twice in five minutes to
bring in wounded. But he won't live. There--it's clearing. You run
along and find the old boy, Johnny.'

"I found him. He was hurt too badly to talk about. As gently as we knew
how, Joe Barron and I lifted him into the car and he recognized me.

"'Why, good evening, sir,' he greeted me, smiling at the disputed
title, charming and casual as ever. He identified me--'The boy who
adored Italy.' Then: 'Such luck!' he gasped. 'Killed--in our
uniform--serving!' And as he felt my hand on his forehead: 'For God's
sake don't be sorry, lad,' he begged. 'A great finish for me. I never
hoped for luck like this.'

"There's a small village," the boy went on--"I never knew its name;
it's back of the Piave; only a pile of broken stuff now anyhow. But the
church was standing that night, a lovely old church with a tower
pierced with windows. We stuck in a traffic jam in front of that
church. The roads were one solid column going forward into the mess.
Mile after mile of it in one stream--and every parallel road must have
been the same.

"It got dark early and the ration truck was late coming up, being
caught in the jam. It was nigh