initial commit of ebook 44185HEADmain

13 files changed, 15234 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/old/44185-8.txt b/old/44185-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5a7b6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4289 @@
+Project Gutenberg's The Fighting Starkleys, by Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Fighting Starkleys
+       or, The test of courage
+
+Author: Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+Illustrator: George Varian
+
+Release Date: November 15, 2013 [EBook #44185]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                         THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS
+
+
+
+
+                              _STORIES BY_
+
+                                _Captain
+                      Theodore Goodridge Roberts_
+
+
+                _Comrades of the Trails_             _$1.50_
+                _The Red Feathers_                    _1.65_
+                _Flying Plover_                       _1.35_
+                _The Fighting Starkleys_              _1.65_
+
+
+                           _THE PAGE COMPANY_
+                   _53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass._
+
+
+
+
+       [Illustration: "HE SAW HIS BOMB BURST BESIDE THE STUMP OF
+                      CHIMNEY."                    (_See page 194_)]
+
+
+
+
+                             _The_ FIGHTING
+                               STARKLEYS
+
+                       _Or, THE TEST OF COURAGE_
+
+                                   BY
+                   CAPTAIN THEODORE GOODRIDGE ROBERTS
+                               Author of
+    "Comrades of the Trails," "Red Feathers," "Flying Plover," etc.
+
+                             ILLUSTRATED BY
+                             GEORGE VARIAN
+
+                             [Illustration]
+
+                                 BOSTON
+                            THE PAGE COMPANY
+                               MDCCCCXXII
+
+
+
+
+                           _Copyright, 1920_,
+                         BY PERRY MASON COMPANY
+
+                           _Copyright, 1922_,
+                          BY THE PAGE COMPANY
+
+                         _All rights reserved_
+
+
+                             Made in U.S.A.
+
+                     First Impression, April, 1922
+
+
+                    PRINTED BY C. H. SIMONDS COMPANY
+                         BOSTON, MASS., U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+
+        CHAPTER                                                 PAGE
+
+           I. THE CALL COMES TO BEAVER DAM                         1
+
+          II. JIM HAMMOND DOES NOT RETURN TO DUTY                 29
+
+         III. THE VETERANS OF OTHER DAYS                          56
+
+          IV.  PRIVATE SILL ACTS                                  80
+
+           V. PETER'S ROOM IS AGAIN OCCUPIED                     109
+
+          VI. DAVE HAMMER GETS HIS COMMISSION                    131
+
+         VII. PETER WRITES A LETTER                              155
+
+        VIII. THE 26TH "MOPS UP"                                 178
+
+          IX. FRANK SACOBIE OBJECTS                              203
+
+           X. DICK OBLIGES HIS FRIEND                            225
+
+
+
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                               PAGE
+
+        "HE SAW HIS BOMB BURST BESIDE THE STUMP
+          OF CHIMNEY" (_See page 194_)            _Frontispiece_
+
+        "'I CAN'T MAKE YOU OUT,' SAID THE SERGEANT"           23
+
+        "'I'M HIT, BOYS!' HE SAID"                            50
+
+        "'HERE'S ONE OF THEM, SIR; AND THERE'S
+          MORE COMING,' SAID THE MAN OF MUD"                 150
+
+        "STANDING IN THE DOORWAY OF THE COMPARTMENT,
+          DICK SALUTED"                                      240
+
+
+
+
+                        =The Fighting Starkleys=
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I
+
+                      THE CALL COMES TO BEAVER DAM
+
+
+BEAVER DAM was a farm; but long before the day of John Starkley and his
+wife, Constance Emma, who lived there with their five children, the name
+had been applied to and accepted by a whole settlement of farms, a
+gristmill, a meetinghouse, a school and a general store. John Starkley
+was a farmer, with no other source of income than his wide fields.
+Considering those facts, it is not to be wondered at that his three boys
+and two girls had been bred to an active, early-rising, robust way of
+life from their early childhood.
+
+The original human habitation of Beaver Dam had been built of pine logs
+by John's grandfather, one Maj. Richard Starkley, and his friend and
+henchman, Two-Blanket Sacobie, a Malecite sportsman from the big river.
+The present house had been built only a few years before the major's
+death, by his sons, Peter and Richard, and a son of old Two-Blanket, of
+hand-hewn timbers, whipsawn boards and planks and hand-split shingles.
+But the older house still stands solid and true and weather-tight on its
+original ground; its lower floor is a tool house and general lumber room
+and its upper floor a granary.
+
+Soon after the completion of the new house the major's son Richard left
+Beaver Dam for the town of St. John, where he found employment with a
+firm of merchants trading to London, Spain and the West Indies. He was
+sent to Jamaica; and from that tropic isle he sent home, at one time and
+another, cases of guava jelly and "hot stuff," a sawfish's saw and half
+a dozen letters. From Jamaica he was promoted to London; and as the
+years passed, his letters became less and less frequent until they at
+last ceased entirely. So much for the major's son Richard.
+
+Peter stuck to the farm. He was a big, kind-hearted, quiet fellow, a
+hard worker, a great reader of his father's few books. He married the
+beautiful daughter of a Scotchman who had recently settled at Green
+Hill--a Scotchman with a red beard, a pedigree longer and a deal more
+twisted than the road to Fredericton, a mastery of the bagpipes, two
+hundred acres of wild land and an empty sporran. Of Peter Starkley and
+his beautiful wife, Flora, came John, who had his father's steadfastness
+and his mother's fire. He went farther afield for his wife than his
+father had gone--out to the big river, St. John, and down it many miles
+to the sleepy old village and elm-shaded meadows of Gagetown. It was a
+long way for a busy young farmer to go courting; but Constance Emma
+Garden was worth a thousand longer journeys.
+
+When Henry, the oldest of the five Starkley children, went to college to
+study civil engineering, sixteen-year-old Peter, fourteen-year-old
+Flora, twelve-year-old Dick and eight-year-old Emma were at home. Peter,
+who was done with school, did a man's work on the farm; he owned a
+sorrel mare with a reputation as a trotter, contemplated spending the
+next winter in the lumber woods and planned agriculture activities on a
+scale and of a kind to astonish his father.
+
+On a Saturday morning in June Dick and Flora, who were chums, got up
+even earlier than usual. They breakfasted by themselves in the summer
+kitchen of the silent house, dug earthworms in the rich brown loam of
+the garden and, taking their fishing rods from behind the door of the
+tool house, set out hurriedly for Frying Pan River. When they were
+halfway to the secluded stream they overtook Frank Sacobie, the
+great-grandson of Two-Blanket Sacobie, who had helped Maj. Richard
+Starkley build his house.
+
+The young Malecite's black eyes lighted pleasantly at sight of his
+friends, but his lips remained unsmiling. He was a very thin,
+small-boned, long-legged boy of thirteen, clothed in a checked cotton
+shirt and the cut-down trousers of an older Sacobie. He did not wear a
+hat. His straight black hair lay in a fringe just above his eyebrows.
+
+"Didn't you bring any worms?" asked Flora.
+
+"Nope," said Frank.
+
+"Or any luncheon?" asked Dick.
+
+"Nope," said Frank. "You two always fetch plenty worms and plenty grub."
+
+He led the way along a lumbermen's winter road, and at last they reached
+the Frying Pan. Baiting their hooks, they fell to fishing.
+
+The trout were plentiful in the Frying Pan; they bit, they yanked, they
+pulled. The three young fishers heaved them ashore by main force and
+awkwardness--as folk say round Beaver Dam--and by noon the three had as
+many fish as they could comfortably carry. So, winding up their lines,
+they washed their hands and sat down in a sunny place to lunch. All were
+wet, for all had fallen into the river more than once. Dick had his left
+hand in a bandage by that time; he had embedded a hook in the fleshy
+part of it and had dug it out with his jack-knife.
+
+"That's nothing! Just a scratch!" he said in the best offhand military
+manner. "My great-grandfather once had a Russian bayonet put clean
+through his shoulder."
+
+"Guess my great-gran'father did some fightin', too," remarked Frank
+Sacobie. "He was a big chief on the big river."
+
+"No, he didn't," said Dick. "He was a chief, all right; but there wasn't
+any fighting on the river in his day. He was Two-Blanket Sacobie. I've
+read all about him in my great-grandfather's diary."
+
+"Don't mean him," said Frank. "I mean Two-Blanket's father's father's
+father. His name was just Sacobie, and his mark was a red canoe. He
+fought the English and the Mohawks. All the Malecites on the big river
+were his people, and he was very good friend to the big French
+governors. The King of France sent him a big medal. My gran'mother told
+me all about it once. She said how Two-Blanket got his name because he
+sold that medal to a white man on the Oromocto for two blankets; and
+that was a long time ago--way back before your great-gran'father ever
+come to this country. I tell you, if I want to be a soldier, I bet I
+would make as good a soldier as Dick."
+
+"Bet you wouldn't," retorted Dick.
+
+"All right. I'm goin' to be a soldier--and you'll see. I'm going into
+the militia as soon as I'm old enough."
+
+"So'm I."
+
+Flora laughed. "Who will you fight with you when you are in the
+militia?" she asked.
+
+The boys exchanged embarrassed glances.
+
+"I guess the militia could fight all right if it had to," said Dick.
+
+"Of course it could," said Frank.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+For four years after the conversation that took place on the bank of
+Frying Pan River Flora and Dick and the rest of the Starkley family
+except Henry lived on in the quiet way of the folk at Beaver Dam. The
+younger children continued to go daily to school at the Crossroads, to
+take part in the lighter tasks of farm and house, to play and fish and
+argue and dream great things of the future.
+
+Peter spent each winter in the lumber woods. In his nineteenth year he
+invested his savings in a deserted farm near Beaver Dam and passed the
+greater part of the summer of 1913 in repairing the old barn on his new
+possession, cutting bushes out of the old meadows, mending fences and
+clearing land.
+
+That was only a beginning he said. He would own a thousand acres before
+long and show the people of Beaver Dam--including his own father--how to
+farm on a big scale and in an up-to-date manner.
+
+Henry, the eldest Starkley of this generation, had completed his course
+at college and got a job with a railway survey party in the upper valley
+of the big river. He proved himself to be a good engineer.
+
+In the spring of 1914 Frank Sacobie, now seventeen years of age, left
+Beaver Dam to work in a sawmill on the big river. Peter Starkley
+invested his winter's wages in another mare, two cows and a ton of
+chemical fertilizers. He ploughed ten acres of his meadows and sowed
+five with oats, four to buckwheat, and planted one to potatoes. The
+whole family was thrilled with the romance of his undertaking. His
+father helped him to put in his crop; and Dick and Flora found the
+attractions of Peter's farm irresistible. The very tasks that they
+classed as work at home they considered as play when performed at
+"Peter's place." In the romantic glow of Peter's agricultural beginning
+Dick almost resigned his military ambitions. But those ambitions were
+revived by Peter himself; and this is how it happened.
+
+Peter planned to raise horses, and he felt that the question what class
+of horse to devote his energies to was very important. One day late in
+June he met a stranger in the village of Stanley, and they "talked
+horse." The stranger advised Peter to visit King's County if he wanted
+knowledge on that subject.
+
+"Enlist in the cavalry," he said--"the 8th, Princess Louise, New
+Brunswick Hussars. That will give you a trip for nothin'--two weeks--and
+a dollar a day--and a chance to see every sort of horse that was ever
+bred in this province, right there in the regiment. Bring along a horse
+of your own, and the government will pay you another dollar a day for
+it--and feed it. I do it every year, just for a holiday and a bit of
+change."
+
+It sounded attractive to Peter, and two weeks later he and his black
+mare set off for King's County to join the regiment in its training
+camp. In his absence Dick and Flora looked after the sorrel mare, his
+cows and his farm. Two weeks later Peter and the mare returned; the mare
+was a little thinner than of old, and Peter was full of talk of horses
+and soldiering. Dick's military ambitions relit in him like an explosion
+of gunpowder.
+
+Then came word of the war to Beaver Dam.
+
+The folk of Beaver Dam, and of thousands of other rural communities,
+were busy with their haying when Canada offered a division to the mother
+country, for service in any part of the world. Militia officers posted
+through the country, seeking volunteers to cross the ocean and to bear
+arms against terrific Germany.
+
+Peter, now in his twentieth year, wished to join.
+
+"And what about your new farm and all your great plans?" asked John
+Starkley.
+
+"Dick and I will look after his farm for him," said Flora. "We can
+harvest his crops and--"
+
+Just then she looked at her mother and suddenly became silent. Mrs.
+Starkley's face was very white.
+
+"If the need for men from Canada is great, other divisions will be
+called for," said the father. "At present, only one division has been
+asked for--and I think that can easily be filled with seasoned
+militiamen."
+
+"Some one drove past the window!" exclaimed Flora.
+
+The door opened and a young man, in the khaki service uniform of an
+officer, entered the room. He halted, removed his cap and grinned
+broadly at the astonished family.
+
+"Henry!" cried Mrs. Starkley, pressing a hand swiftly and covertly to
+her side.
+
+Her husband found nothing to say just then. Dick and Flora and Emma ran
+to Henry and began asking questions and examining and fingering his
+belt, the leather strapping of his smart riding breeches, even his high,
+brown boots and shining spurs.
+
+"What are you, Henry?" asked Flora.
+
+"A sapper--an engineer."
+
+"Are you an officer?" asked Dick.
+
+"Lieutenant, 1st Field Company, Canadian Engineers--that's what I am.
+Hope you approve of my boots."
+
+"Are you going, Henry?" asked Peter, with a noticeable hitch in his
+voice and a curious expression of disappointment and relief in his eyes.
+
+"Yes, I'm to join my unit at the big mobilization camp in Quebec in ten
+days," replied Henry.
+
+John Starkley put a hand on Peter's shoulders. "Then you will wait,
+Peter," he said.
+
+"You're needed here--and we must keep you as long as we can. One at a
+time is enough."
+
+"I'll wait now, but I will go with the next lot," said Peter.
+
+Henry had nine days in which to arrange his affairs, and no affairs to
+arrange. He was in high spirits and proud of his commission, but he put
+on an old tweed suit the next morning and helped with the last of the
+haying on the home farm and on Peter's place. When the nine days were
+gone he donned his uniform again and drove away to the nearest railway
+station with his mother and father and little Emma. He wrote frequent
+entertaining letters from the big camp at Valcartier. On the 29th day of
+September he embarked at Quebec; the transports gathered in Gaspé Basin
+and were joined there by their escort of cruisers; the great fleet put
+out to sea--the greatest fleet that had ever crossed the
+Atlantic--bearing thirty-three thousand Canadian soldiers to the
+battlefields of Europe instead of the twenty thousand that had been
+originally promised.
+
+At Beaver Dam Peter worked harder than ever, but with a look in his eyes
+at times that seemed to carry beyond the job in hand. A few weeks ago he
+had experienced a pardonable glow of pride and self-satisfaction when
+people had pointed him out as the young fellow who had bought the old
+Smith place and who was going to farm in a big way; now it seemed to him
+that the only man worth pointing out was the man who had enlisted to
+fight the swarming legions of Germany.
+
+He did not invest in any more live stock that fall. He sold all of the
+oats and straw that he did not need for the wintering of his two mares
+and two cows. He did not look for a job in the lumber woods. His
+potatoes were a clean and heavy crop; and he went to Stanley to sell
+them. That was early in October.
+
+The storekeeper there was a man named Hammond, who dealt in farm produce
+on a large scale and who shipped to the cities of the province. He
+engaged to take Peter's crop at a good price, then talked about the war.
+One of his sons, a lieutenant in the militia, had sailed with the first
+contingent. They talked of that young man and Henry and others who had
+gone.
+
+"I am off with the next lot," said Peter.
+
+"That will be soon enough," said the merchant thoughtfully. "My
+daughter, Vivia, has been visiting in Fredericton, and she tells me
+there is talk of a second division already. Jim says he is going with
+the next lot, too. That will leave me without a son at all, but I
+haven't the face to try to talk him out of it."
+
+Peter accepted an invitation to have dinner with the Hammonds. He knew
+the other members of the family slightly--Mrs. Hammond, Vivia and Jim.
+Jim, who was a year or two older than Peter, was a thickset,
+dull-looking young man with a reputation as a shrewd trader. He was his
+father's chief assistant in the business. Patrick, the son who had
+sailed with the first contingent, had a reputation as a fisherman and
+hunter, which meant that he was considered as frivolous and that he had
+no standing at all as a business man. Vivia, the daughter, resembled
+Patrick rather than Jim. She was about seventeen years old. Peter, who
+had not seen her for twelve months, wondered how such a heavy duffer as
+Jim Hammond came by such a sister.
+
+During the meal Peter paid a great deal of attention to everything Vivia
+Hammond said, and Vivia did more talking than anyone else at the table;
+and yet by the time Peter was on the road for Beaver Dam he could not
+remember a dozen words of all the hundreds she had spoken. Likewise, he
+attended her with his eyes as faithfully as with his ears; and yet by
+the time he was halfway home his mind's picture of her was all gone to
+glimmering fragments. The more he concentrated his thoughts upon her the
+less clearly could he see her.
+
+He laughed at himself. He could not remember ever having been in a like
+difficulty before. Well, he could afford to laugh, for, after all, he
+lived within a reasonable distance of her and could drive over again any
+day if his defective memory troubled him seriously. And that is exactly
+what he did,--and on the very next day at that,----half believing even
+himself that he went to talk about enlisting, and the war in general,
+with her heavy brother. He did not see Jim on that occasion, and during
+a ten-minutes' interview with Vivia he did not say more than a dozen
+words.
+
+On the 4th of November Peter read in the Fredericton Harvester that
+recruiting had begun in the city of St. John for the 26th Infantry
+Battalion, a newly authorized unit for overseas service. The family
+circle at Beaver Dam sat up late that night. Peter talked excitedly, and
+the others listened in silence. Dick's eyes shone in the lamplight.
+
+Peter drove over to Stanley early the next morning and there took the
+train to Fredericton, and from Fredericton to St. John. He felt no
+military thrill. Loneliness and homesickness weighed on him
+already--loneliness for his people, for the wide home kitchen and bright
+sitting-room, for his own fields.
+
+He reached the big city by the sea after dark. The traffic of the hard
+streets, the foggy lights and the heedless, hurrying crowds of people
+added bewilderment to his loneliness. With his baggage at his feet, he
+stood in the station and gazed miserably around.
+
+Peter Starkley did not stand there unnoticed. Dozens of the people who
+pushed past him eyed him with interest and wondered what he was waiting
+for. He was so evidently not of the city. He looked at once rustic and
+distinguished. But no one spoke to him until a sergeant in a khaki
+service uniform caught sight of him.
+
+"I can't make you out," said the sergeant, stepping up to him.
+
+      [Illustration: "'I CAN'T MAKE YOU OUT,' SAID THE SERGEANT."]
+
+"I can place you," he said. "You're a sergeant."
+
+"Right," returned the other. "And you're from the country. Your big felt
+hat tells me so--and your tanned face. But I can see that you're a
+person of some importance where you come from."
+
+Peter blushed. "I am a farmer and a trooper in the 8th Hussars, and I
+have come here to enlist for overseas with the new infantry battalion,"
+he said.
+
+"That's what I hoped!" exclaimed the sergeant. "Come along with me, lad.
+You are for the 26th Canadian Overseas Infantry Battalion."
+
+The sergeant, whose name was Hammer, was a cheery, friendly fellow. He
+was also a very keen soldier and entertained a high opinion of the
+military qualities of the new battalion. On reaching the armory of the
+local militia regiment, now being used as headquarters of the new unit,
+Hammer led Peter straight to the medical officer. The doctor found
+nothing the matter with the recruit from Beaver Dam. Then Hammer paraded
+him before the adjutant. Peter answered a few questions, took a solemn
+oath and signed a paper.
+
+"Now you're a soldier, a regular soldier," said the sergeant and slapped
+him on the back. "Come along now, and in half an hour I'll have you
+fitted into a uniform as trim as my own."
+
+Within a month Peter Starkley had distinguished himself as a steady
+soldier; he had attained to the rank of lance corporal, and then of
+corporal. His steadiness was largely owing to homesickness. Of his few
+intimates the closest was Sergt. Hammer.
+
+Jim Hammond did not join the regiment until close upon Christmas. He was
+found physically fit; and, as a result of a request made by Peter to
+Hammer and by the sergeant to Lieut. Scammell, and by the lieutenant to
+the adjutant, he became a member of the same platoon as Peter. Not only
+that, he became one of Hammer's section, in which Peter was a corporal.
+
+Peter felt that he should like to be good friends with Jim Hammond, but
+he did not give a definite reason even to himself for that wish. Jim, in
+his own person, was not attractive to him. Peter felt misgivings when
+Jim, within two days of donning his uniform, began to grumble about the
+severity of the training. Three days later Dave Hammer, in his official
+capacity as a section commander, fell upon Jim Hammond in his official
+capacity as a private soldier. Reason and justice, as well as authority,
+were with the sergeant. Jim came to Peter that evening.
+
+"Look a-here, who does Dave Hammer think he is, anyhow?" he asked.
+
+"I guess he knows who he is," replied Peter.
+
+"Well, whoever he is," Hammond declared wrathfully, "I won't be bawled
+out by him. I guess I'm as good a man as he is--and better."
+
+"You'll have lots of chances, from now on, to show how good a man you
+are. Acting as you did on the route march this afternoon doesn't show
+it."
+
+Hammond's face darkened.
+
+"Is that so?" he retorted. "Well, I'll tell you now I didn't come
+soldiering to be taught my business by you or any other bushwhacker from
+Beaver Dam. You got two stripes, I see. I'd have two stars if I took to
+licking people's boots the way you do, Peter Starkley."
+
+Peter bent forward, and his lean face hardened, and his dark eyes
+glinted coldly.
+
+"I don't want to have trouble with you, Jim," he said, and his voice was
+no more than a whisper, "but it will happen if you don't look out. I
+don't lick any man's boots! If I hear another word like that out of you,
+I'll lick something--and that will be you! Do you get me?"
+
+He looked dangerous. Hammond tried to glare him down, but failed.
+Hammond's own eyes wavered. He grunted and turned away. The next morning
+he applied for a Christmas pass, which was refused on the ground that
+the men who had joined first should be the first to receive passes. He
+felt thoroughly ill-used.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER II
+
+                      JIM HAMMOND DOES NOT RETURN
+                                TO DUTY
+
+
+PETER STARKLEY got home to Beaver Dam for New Year's Day on a six days'
+pass. Jim Hammond had also tried to get a pass, but he had failed. Peter
+found his homesickness increased by those six days; but he made every
+effort to hide his emotions. He talked bravely of his duties and his
+comrades, and especially of Dave Hammer. He said nothing about Jim
+Hammond except when questioned, and then as little as possible.
+
+He polished his buttons and badges every morning and rolled his putties
+as if for parade. The smartness of his carriage gave a distinction even
+to the unlovely khaki service uniform of a British noncommissioned
+officer. He looked like a guardsman and felt like a schoolboy who
+dreaded the approaching term. He haunted the barns and stables of the
+home farm and of his own place and tramped the snow-laden woods and
+blanketed fields. In spite of his efforts to think only of the harsh and
+foreign task before him, he dreamed of clearings here and crops there.
+The keen, kindly eyes of his parents saw through to his heart.
+
+One day of the six he spent in the village of Stanley. He called first
+at Hammond's store, where he tried to give Mr. Hammond the impression
+that he had dropped in casually, but as he had nothing to sell and did
+not wish to buy anything he failed to hoodwink the storekeeper. Mr.
+Hammond was cordial, but seemed worried.
+
+He complimented Peter on his promotion and his soldierly appearance.
+
+"Glad you got home," he said. "Wish Jim could have come along with you,
+but he writes as how they won't give him a pass. Seems to me it ain't
+more than only fair to let all the boys come home for Christmas or New
+Year's."
+
+"Then there wouldn't be any one left to carry on," said Peter. "They've
+fixed it so that those who have been longest on the job get the first
+passes; but I guess every one will get home for a few days before we
+sail."
+
+"Jim says the training--the drill and all that--is mighty hard,"
+continued Mr. Hammond.
+
+"Some find it so, and some don't," replied Peter awkwardly. "I guess
+it's what you might call a matter of taste."
+
+"Like enough," said the storekeeper, scratching his chin. "It's a matter
+of taste--and not to Jim's taste, that's sure."
+
+Peter felt relieved to see that Mr. Hammond seemed to understand the
+case. He was about to elaborate on the subject of military training when
+a middle-aged man wearing a bowler hat and a fur-lined overcoat turned
+from the counter. He had a square, clean-shaven face and very bright and
+active black eyes.
+
+"Excuse me, corporal," the stranger said, "but may I horn in and inquire
+what you think of it yourself?"
+
+"You can ask if you want to, Mr. Sill," said Mr. Hammond, "but you won't
+hear any kick out of Peter Starkley, whether he likes it or not."
+
+"It's easier than working in the woods, either chopping or teaming,"
+said Peter pleasantly, "and I'll bet a dollar it is a sight easier than
+the real fighting will be."
+
+"That's the way to look at it, corporal," said the stranger. "I guess
+that in a war like this a man has to make up his mind to take the fun
+and the ferocity, the music and the mud, and the pie and the pain, just
+as they come."
+
+"I guess so," said Peter.
+
+The stranger shook his hand cordially and just before he turned away
+remarked, "Maybe you and I will meet again sooner than you expect."
+
+"Who is he, and what's he driving at?" asked Peter, when the stranger
+had left the store.
+
+"He is a Yank, and a traveler for Maddock & Co. of St. John, and his
+name is Hiram Sill--but I don't know what he is driving at any more than
+you do," replied Mr. Hammond.
+
+The storekeeper invited Peter to call round at the house and to stay to
+dinner and for as long as he liked afterwards. Peter accepted the
+invitation. The Hammond house stood beside the store, but farther back
+from the road. It was white and big, with a veranda in front of it, a
+row of leafless maples, a snowdrifted lawn and a picket fence. Vivia
+Hammond opened the door to his ring. From behind the curtain of the
+parlor window she had seen him approach.
+
+At dinner Peter talked more than was usual with him; something in the
+way the girl listened to him inspired him to conversation. At two
+o'clock he accompanied her to the river and skated with her. They had
+such parts of the river as were not drifted with snow to themselves,
+except for two little boys. The little boys, interested in Peter as a
+military man, kept them constantly in sight. Peter felt decidedly
+hostile toward those harmless boys, but he was too shy to mention it to
+Vivia. He was delighted and astonished when she turned upon them at last
+and said:
+
+"Billy Brandon, you and Jack had better take off your skates and go
+home."
+
+"I guess we got as much right as anybody on this here river," replied
+Billy Brandon, but there was a lack of conviction in his voice.
+
+"You were both in bed with grippe only last week," Vivia retorted; "but
+I'll call in at your house and ask your mother about it on my way up the
+hill."
+
+The little boys had nothing to say to that. They maintained a casual
+air, skated in circles and figures for a few minutes and then went home.
+For ten minutes after that the corporal and the girl skated in an
+electrical silence, looking everywhere except at each other. Then Peter
+ventured a slanting glance across his left shoulder at her little
+fur-cuddled face. Their eyes met.
+
+"Poor Mrs. Brandon can't manage those boys," she said. "But they are
+very good boys, really. They do everything I tell them."
+
+"Why shouldn't they? But I'm glad they're gone, anyway," he replied, in
+a voice that seemed to be tangled and strangled in the collar of his
+greatcoat.
+
+When Vivia and Peter returned to the house the eastern sky was eggshell
+green and the west, low along the black forests, as red as the draft of
+a stove. Their conversation had never fully recovered after the incident
+of the two little boys. Wonderful and amazing thoughts and emotions
+churned round in Peter's head and heart, but he did not venture to give
+voice to them. They bewildered him. He stayed to tea and at that
+comfortable meal Mr. and Mrs. Hammond did the talking. Vivia and Peter
+looked at each other only shyly as if they were afraid of what they
+might see in each other's eyes.
+
+At last Peter went to the barn and harnessed the mare. Then he returned
+to the house to say good night to the ladies. That accomplished, Vivia
+accompanied him to the front door. Beyond the front door, as a
+protection against icy winds and drifting snow, was the winter
+porch--not much bigger than a sentry box. Stepping across the threshold,
+from the warm hall into the porch, Peter turned and clutched and held
+the girl's hand across the threshold. The tumult of his heart flooded up
+and smothered the fear in his brain.
+
+"I never spent such a happy day in all my life," he said.
+
+Vivia said nothing. And then the mischief got into the elbow of the
+corporal's right arm. It twitched; and, since his right hand still
+clasped Vivia's hand, the girl was jerked, with a little skip, right out
+of the hall and into the boxlike porch.
+
+Two seconds later Peter pulled open the porch door and dashed into the
+frosty night. He jumped into the pung, and away went the mare as if
+something of her master's madness had been communicated to her. The
+corporal had kissed Vivia!
+
+Peter returned to his battalion two days later. In St. John he found
+everything much as usual. Hammer was as brisk and soldierly as ever, but
+Jim Hammond was more sulky than before. Peter considered the battalion
+with a new interest. Life, even away from Beaver Dam, seemed more worth
+while, and he went at his work with a jump. He wrote twice a week to
+Vivia, spending hours in the construction of each letter and yet always
+leaving out the things that he wanted most to write. The girl's replies
+were the results of a similar literary method.
+
+The training of the battalion went on, indoors and out, day after day.
+In March, Jim Hammond went home for six days. By that time he was known
+throughout the battalion as a confirmed sulker. The six days passed; the
+seventh day came and went without sight or news of him, and then the
+adjutant wired to Mr. Hammond. No reply came from the storekeeper.
+Lieut. Scammell questioned Peter about the family. Peter told what he
+knew--that the Hammonds were fine people, that one son was an officer
+already in England, and that the father was an honest and patriotic
+citizen. So another wire was sent from the orderly room. That, like the
+first, failed to produce results.
+
+The adjutant, Capt. Long, then sent for Peter. This officer was not much
+more than five feet high, despite the name of his fathers, and was built
+in proportion. It tickled the humor of the men to see such a little
+fellow chase ten hundred bigger fellows round from morning until night.
+
+"You are to go upriver and find out why Private Hammond has not returned
+to duty," said the captain.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Peter.
+
+"Inform me by wire," continued the captain. "Use your brains. I am
+sending you alone, because I want to give Hammond a chance for the sake
+of his brother overseas. Here are your pass, your railway warrant and a
+chit for the paymaster. That's all, Corp. Starkley."
+
+Peter saluted and retired. He reached Fredericton that night and the
+home village of Jim Hammond by noon of the next day. He went straight to
+the store, where Mr. Hammond greeted him with astonishment. Peter saw no
+sign of Jim.
+
+"I didn't expect to see you back so soon," said Mr. Hammond.
+
+"I got a chance, so I took it," replied Peter. "How's all the family?"
+
+The storekeeper smiled. "The womenfolk are well," he said.
+
+Peter saw that he had come suddenly to the point where he must exercise
+all the tact he possessed. He felt keenly embarrassed.
+
+"Did you get a telegram?" he asked.
+
+"No. Did you wire us you were coming?"
+
+"Not that, exactly. You see, it was like this, Mr. Hammond: when Jim
+didn't get back the day he was due the adjutant sent you a wire, and
+when he didn't get an answer he sent another--and when you didn't reply
+to that he detailed me to come along and see what was wrong."
+
+The storekeeper stared at him. "I never got any telegram. Jim came home
+on two weeks' furlough, and he has five days of it left. You and your
+adjutant must be crazy."
+
+"Two weeks," repeated Peter. "It was six days he got."
+
+"Six days! Are you sure of that, Peter Starkley?"
+
+"As sure as that's my name, Mr. Hammond. And the adjutant sent you two
+telegrams, asking why Jim didn't return to duty when his pass was
+up--and he didn't get any answer. If you didn't get one or other of
+those telegrams, then there is something wrong somewhere."
+
+Mr. Hammond's face clouded. "I didn't get any wire, Peter--and Jim went
+away day before yesterday, to visit some friends," he said.
+
+They eyed each other in silence for a little while; both were bitterly
+embarrassed, and the storekeeper was numbed with shame.
+
+"I'll go for him," he said. "If I fetch him to you here, will you
+promise to--to keep the truth of it quiet, Peter--from his mother and
+sister and the folk about here?"
+
+"I'll do the best I can," promised the corporal, "but not for Jim's
+sake, mind you, Mr. Hammond. Capt. Long is for giving him a chance
+because of his brother, Pat, over on Salisbury Plain--and that's why he
+sent me alone, instead of sending a sergeant with an escort."
+
+"I'll go fetch him, Peter," said the other, in a shaking voice. "You go
+along to Beaver Dam and come back to-morrow--to see Vivia. When Jim and
+I turn up you meet him just like it was by chance. Keep your mouth shut,
+Peter. Not a word to a living soul about his only having six days. He's
+not well, and that's the truth."
+
+A dull anger was awake in Peter by this time.
+
+"Something the matter with his feet," he said and left the store.
+
+Here he was, told to be tactful by Capt. Long and to keep his mouth shut
+by Mr. Hammond, all on account of a sulky, lazy, bad-tempered fellow who
+had been a disgrace to the battalion since the day he joined it. And not
+a word about stopping for dinner!
+
+He crossed the road to the hotel, made arrangements to be driven out to
+Beaver Dam and then ate a lonely dinner. He thought of Vivia Hammond
+only a few yards away from him, yet unconscious of his proximity--and he
+wanted to punch the head of her brother Jim. He drove away from the
+hotel up the long hill without venturing a glance at the windows of the
+big white house on the other side of the road.
+
+The family at Beaver Dam accepted his visit without question. No mention
+was made of Jim Hammond that night. Peter was up and out early the next
+morning, lending a hand with the feeding and milking.
+
+After breakfast he and Dick went over to his own place to have a look at
+his house and barns.
+
+"Frank Sacobie came home last week," said Dick. "He's been out to see us
+twice. He wants to enlist in your outfit, but I am trying to hold him
+off till next year so's we can go over together."
+
+"You babies had better keep your bibs on a few years longer," said
+Peter. "I guess there will be lots of time for all of you to fight in
+this war without forcing yourselves under glass."
+
+They rounded a spur of spruces and saw Sacobie approaching on snowshoes
+across the white meadows. He had grown taller and deeper in the chest
+since Peter had last seen him. The greeting was cordial but not wordy.
+Sacobie turned and accompanied them.
+
+"I see Jim Hammond yesterday, out Pike Settlement way," he said.
+
+"That so?" returned Peter, trying to seem uninterested.
+
+"No uniform on, neither, and drinkin' some," continued Sacobie. "Says
+he's got his discharge from that outfit because it ain't reckoned as
+first-class and has been asked to be an officer in another outfit."
+
+Then Peter forgot his instructions. Jim Hammond too good for the 26th
+battalion! Jim Hammond offered a commission! His indignant heart sent
+his blood racing through him.
+
+"He's a liar!" he cried. "Yes, and a deserter, too, by thunder!"
+
+Dick was astonished, but Frank Sacobie received the information calmly,
+without so much as a flicker of the eyelids.
+
+"I think that all the time I listen to him," he said. "I figger to get
+his job, anyway, if he lie or tell the truth. I go down to-morrow,
+Peter, and you tell the colonel how I make a darn sight better soldier
+than Jim Hammond."
+
+Peter gripped the others each by an arm.
+
+"I shouldn't have said that," he cautioned them. "Forget it! You boys
+have got to keep it under your hats, but I guess it's up to me to take a
+jog out Pike Settlement way. If you boys say a word about it, you get in
+wrong with me and you get me in wrong with a whole heap of folks."
+
+They turned and went back to Beaver Dam. There they hitched the mares to
+the big red pung and stowed in their blankets and half a bag of oats.
+
+"I can't tell you where I'm going or what for, but only that it is a
+military duty," said Peter in answer to the questions of the family.
+
+He took Dick and Frank Sacobie with him. Once they got beyond the
+outskirts of the home settlement they found heavy sledding. At noon they
+halted, blanketed and baited the mares, boiled the kettle and lunched.
+The wide, white roadway before them, winding between walls of
+green-black spruces and gray maples, was marked with only the tracks of
+one pair of horses and one pair of sled runners--evidently made the day
+before. Peter guessed them to be those of Mr. Hammond's team, but he
+said nothing about that to his companions.
+
+Here and there they passed drifted clearings and little houses sending
+blue feathers of smoke into the bright air. They came to places where
+the team that had passed the previous day had been stuck in the drifts
+and laboriously dug out.
+
+They were within two miles of the settlement, between heavy woods
+fronted with tangled alders, when the cracking _whang!_ of exploding
+cordite sounded in the underbrush. The mares plunged, then stood. The
+reins slipped from Peter's mittened hands.
+
+"I'm hit, boys!" he said and then sagged over across Dick's knees.
+
+              [Illustration: "'I'M HIT, BOYS!' HE SAID."]
+
+They laid him on hay and horse blankets in the bottom of the pung and
+covered him with fur robes. Then Sacobie got up in front and drove.
+
+No sound except the rapping of a woodpecker came from the woods. Peter
+breathed regularly. Presently he opened his eyes.
+
+"It's in the ribs, by the feel of it--but it doesn't hurt much," he
+said. "Felt like a kick from a horse at first. Remember not to say
+anything about Jim Hammond."
+
+They put him to bed at the first farmhouse they reached. All his
+clothing on the right side was stiff with blood. Dick bandaged the
+wound; and a doctor arrived two hours later. The bullet had nipped in
+and out, splintering a rib, and lay just beneath the skin. Peter had
+bled a good deal, but not to a dangerous extent.
+
+Before sunrise the next morning Dick and Frank Sacobie set out on their
+return journey, taking with them a brief telegram and a letter for Capt.
+Long. Peter had dictated the message, but had written the letter with
+great effort, one wavery word after another.
+
+Mr. Hammond and John Starkley reached Pike Settlement late at night. The
+storekeeper seemed broken in spirit, but some color came back to his
+face when he saw Peter lying there in the bed at the farmhouse with as
+cheerful an air as if he had only strained his ankle.
+
+"I must see you a few minutes alone before I leave," he whispered,
+stooping over the bed.
+
+"Don't worry," answered Peter.
+
+John Starkley was vastly relieved to find his son doing so well. His
+bewilderment that any one in that country should pull a trigger on Peter
+almost swamped his indignation. The more he thought it over the more
+bewildered he became.
+
+"You haven't an enemy in the world, Peter--except the Germans," he said.
+"But that was no chance shot. If it had been an accident, the fellow
+with the rifle would have come out to lend a hand."
+
+"I guess that's so," replied Peter. "Maybe it was a German. It means a
+lot to the Kaiser to keep me out of this war."
+
+His father smiled. "Joking aside, lad," he said, "who do you suppose it
+was? What was the bullet? Many a murderer has been traced before now on
+a less likely clue than a bullet."
+
+"Isn't the bullet on the table there, Mr. Hammond? The doctor gave it to
+me, and I chucked it somewhere--over there or somewhere."
+
+They looked in vain for the bullet. Later, when the guests and the
+household were at supper, Mr. Hammond excused himself from table and ran
+up to Peter's room. He closed the door behind him, leaned over the bed
+and grasped Peter's left hand in both of his.
+
+"I did my best," he whispered. "I found him and told him you had been
+sent because the officer wanted to give him a chance. But he had been
+drinking heavy. He wasn't himself, Peter--he was like a madman. I begged
+him to come back with me, but he wouldn't hear reason or kindness. He
+knocked me down--me, his own father--and got away from that house. What
+are you going to do, Peter? You are a man, Starkley--a big man--big
+enough to be merciful. What d'you mean to do?"
+
+"Nothing," said Peter. "I came to find Jim, and I haven't found him. I
+got shot instead by some one I haven't seen hair, hide or track of. It's
+up to the army to find Jim, if they still want him; but as far as I am
+concerned he may be back with the battalion this minute for all I know.
+I hope he is. As for the fellow who made a target of me, well, he didn't
+kill me, and I don't hold a grudge against him."
+
+Mr. Hammond went home the first thing in the morning. John Starkley
+waited until the doctor called again and dressed the wound and said he
+had never seen any one take a splintered rib and a hole in the side so
+well as Peter.
+
+"If he keeps on like this, you'll be able to take him home in ten days
+or so," said the doctor.
+
+So John Starkley returned to Beaver Dam, delivered the good news to his
+family and heard in return that young Frank Sacobie had gone to St. John
+and joined the 26th.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III
+
+                       THE VETERANS OF OTHER DAYS
+
+
+WHEN Peter was able to travel, he was taken home to Beaver Dam, and
+there a medical officer, a major in spurs, examined him and
+congratulated him on being alive. Peter was given six months' sick
+leave; and that, he knew, killed his chance of crossing the ocean with
+his battalion. He protested, but the officer told him that, whether in
+bed in his father's house or with his platoon, he was still in the army
+and would have to do as he was told. The officer said it kindly and
+added that as soon as he was fit he should return to his battalion,
+whether it was in Canada, England or Flanders.
+
+Jim Hammond vanished. The army marked him as a deserter, and even his
+own battalion forgot him. Confused rumors circulated round his home
+village for a little while and then faded and expired. As Jim Hammond
+vanished from the knowledge and thought of men, so vanished the
+mysterious rifleman who had splintered Peter's rib.
+
+Spring brought the great news of the stand of the First Canadian
+Division at Ypres--the stand of the few against the many, of the
+Canadian militia against the greatest and most ruthless fighting machine
+of the whole world. The German army was big and ready, but it was not
+great as we know greatness now. The little Belgians had already checked
+it and pierced the joints of its armor; the French had beaten it against
+odds; the little old army of England, with its monocles and its tea and
+its pouter-chested sergeant majors, had outshot it and outfought it at
+every meeting; and now three brigades of Canadian infantry and a few
+batteries of Canadian artillery had stood undaunted before its deluge of
+metal and strangling gas and held it back from the open road to Calais
+and Paris.
+
+Lieut. Pat Hammond wrote home about the battle. He had been in the edge
+of it and had escaped unhurt. Henry Starkley, of the First Field
+Company, was there, too. He received a slight wound. Private letters and
+the great stories of the newspapers thrilled the hearts of thousands of
+peaceful, unheroic folk. Volunteers flowed in from lumber camps and
+farms.
+
+In May Dick Starkley made the great move of his young life. He was now
+seventeen years old and sound and strong. He saw that Peter could not
+get away with his battalion--that, unless something unexpected happened,
+the Second Canadian Division would get away without a Starkley of Beaver
+Dam.
+
+So he did the unexpected thing: he went away to St. John without a word,
+introduced himself to Sgt. Dave Hammer as Peter's brother, added a year
+to his age and became a member of the 26th Battalion. He found Frank
+Sacobie there, already possessed of all the airs of an old soldier.
+
+Dick sent a telegram to his father and a long, affectionate, confused
+letter to his mother. His parents understood and forgave and went to St.
+John and told him so--and Peter sent word that he, too, understood; and
+Dick was happy. Then with all his thought and energy and ambition he set
+to work to make himself a good soldier.
+
+Peter did not grumble again about his sick leave. His wound healed; and
+as the warm days advanced he grew stronger with every day. He had been
+wounded in the performance of his duty as surely as if a German had
+fired the shot across the mud of No Man's Land; so he accepted those
+extra months in the place and life he loved with a gratitude that was
+none the less deep for being silent.
+
+In June the Battalion embarked for England, in strength eleven hundred
+noncommissioned officers and men and forty-two officers. After an
+uneventful voyage of eleven days they reached Devenport, in England, on
+the twenty-fourth day of the month. The three other battalions of the
+brigade had reached England a month before; the 26th joined them at the
+training camps in Kent and immediately set to work to learn the science
+of modern warfare. They toiled day and night with vigor and constancy;
+and before fall the battalion was declared efficient for service at the
+front.
+
+Both Dick Starkley and Frank Sacobie throve on the hard work. The
+musketry tests proved Sacobie to be one of the best five marksmen in the
+battalion. Dick was a good shot, too, but fell far below his friend at
+the longer ranges. In drill, bombing and physical training, Dick showed
+himself a more apt pupil than the Malecite. At trench digging and route
+marching there was nothing to choose between them, in spite of the fact
+that Sacobie had the advantage of a few inches in length of leg. Both
+were good soldiers, popular with their comrades and trusted by their
+officers. Both were in Dave Hammer's section and Mr. Scammell's platoon.
+
+One afternoon in August Henry Starkley turned up at Westenhanger, on
+seven days' leave from France. He looked years older than when Dick had
+last seen him and thinner of face, and on his left breast was stitched
+the ribbon of the military cross. He obtained a pass for Dick and took
+him up to London. They put up at a quiet hotel off the Strand, at which
+Henry had stopped on his frequent week-end visits to town from Salisbury
+Plain. As they were engaged in filling in the complicated and exhaustive
+registration form the hall porter gave Henry three letters and told him
+that a gentleman had called several times to see him.
+
+"What name?" asked Henry.
+
+"That he didn't tell me, sir," replied the porter, "but as it was him
+wrote the letters you have in your hand you'll soon know, sir."
+
+Henry opened one of the envelopes and turned the inclosure over in quest
+of the writer's signature. There it was--J. A. Starkley-Davenport. All
+three letters were from the same hand, penned at dates several weeks
+apart. They said that before her marriage the writer's mother had been a
+Miss Mary Starkley, daughter of a London merchant by the name of Richard
+Starkley. Richard Starkley, a colonial by birth with trade connections
+with the West Indies, had come from Beaver Dam in the province of New
+Brunswick. The letters said further that their writer had read in the
+casualty lists the name of Lieut. Henry Starkley of the Canadian
+Engineers, and that after diligent inquiry he had learned that this same
+officer had registered at the Canadian High Commissioner's office in
+October, 1914, and given his London address as the Tudor Hotel. Failing
+to obtain any further information concerning Henry Starkley, the writer
+had kept a constant eye on the Tudor Hotel. He begged Mr. Henry Starkley
+to ring up Mayfair 2607, without loss of time, should any one of these
+letters ever come to his hand.
+
+"What's his hurry, I wonder?" remarked Henry. "After three generations
+without a word I guess he'll have to wait until to-morrow morning to
+hear from the Starkleys of Beaver Dam."
+
+"Why not let him wait for three more generations?" suggested Dick. "His
+grandfather, that London merchant, soon forgot about the people back in
+the woods at Beaver Dam. Since the second battle of Ypres, this lad with
+the hitched-up-double name wants to be seen round with you, Henry."
+
+"If that's all, he does not want much," said Henry. "We'll take a look
+at him, anyway. Don't forget that the first Starkley of Beaver Dam was
+once an English soldier and that there was a first battle of Ypres
+before there was a second."
+
+The brothers, the lieutenant of engineers and the infantry private, had
+dinner at a restaurant where there were shaded candles and music; then
+they went to a theater. Although the war was now only a year old, London
+had already grown accustomed to the "gentleman ranker." Brothers,
+cousins and even sons of officers in the little old army were now
+private soldiers and noncommissioned officers in the big new army. The
+uniform was the great thing. Rank badges denoted differences of degree,
+not of kind. So Lieut. Henry Starkley and Private Dick Starkley,
+together at their little luxurious table for two and later elbow to
+elbow at the theater, did not cause comment. Immediately after breakfast
+the next morning Henry rang up the Mayfair number. A voice of inquiring
+deference, a voice that suggested great circumspection and extreme
+polish, answered him. Henry asked for Mr. Starkley-Davenport.
+
+"You want the captain, sir," corrected the voice. "Mr. David was killed
+at Ypres in '14. What name, sir?"
+
+"Starkley," replied Henry.
+
+"Of Canada, sir? Of Beaver Dam? Here is the captain, sir."
+
+Another voice sounded in Henry's ear, asking whether it was Henry
+Starkley of the sappers on the other end of the line. Henry replied in
+the affirmative.
+
+"It is Jack Davenport speaking--Starkley-Davenport," continued the
+voice. "Glad you have my letters at last. Are you at the same hotel? Can
+you wait there half an hour for me?"
+
+"I'll wait," said Henry.
+
+He and Dick awaited the arrival of the grandson of Richard Starkley with
+lively curiosity. That he was a captain, and that some one connected
+with him, perhaps a brother, had been killed at Ypres in 1914, added
+considerable interest to him in their eyes.
+
+"Size him up before trying any of your old-soldier airs on him, young
+fellow," warned Henry.
+
+They sat in the lounge of the hotel and kept a sharp watch on everyone
+who entered by the revolving doors. It was a quiet place, as hotels go
+in London, but during the half hour of their watching more people than
+the entire population of Beaver Dam were presented to their scrutiny. At
+last a pale young fellow in a Panama hat and a gray-flannel suit
+entered. Under his left shoulder was a crutch and in his right hand a
+big, rubber-shod stick. His left knee was bent, and his left foot swung
+clear of the ground. His hands were gloved in gray, and he wore a
+smoke-blue flower in his buttonhole. Only his necktie was out of tone
+with the rest of his equipment: it was in stripes of blue and red and
+yellow. Behind him, close to his elbow, came a thin, elderly man who was
+dressed in black.
+
+"Lieut. Starkley?" he inquired of the hall porter.
+
+At that Henry and Dick both sprang to their feet and went across to the
+man in gray. Before they could introduce themselves the young stranger
+edged himself against his elderly companion, thus making a prop of him,
+hooked the crook of his stick into a side pocket of his coat, and
+extended his right hand to Henry. He did it all so swiftly and smoothly
+that it almost escaped notice; and, pitiful as it was, it almost escaped
+pity.
+
+"Will you lunch with me--if you have nothing better to do?" he asked.
+"You're on leave, I know, and it sounds cheek to ask--but I want to talk
+to you about something rather important."
+
+"Of course--and here is my young brother," said Henry.
+
+The captain shook hands with Dick and then stared at him.
+
+"You are only a boy," he said; and then, seeing the blood mount to
+Dick's tanned cheeks, he continued, "and all the better for that,
+perhaps. The nippiest man in my platoon was only nineteen."
+
+"Of course you remember, sir, Mr. David had not attained his twentieth
+birthday," the elderly man in black reminded him.
+
+"You are right, Wilson," said the captain. "Hit in October, '14. He was
+my young brother. There were just the two of us. Shall we toddle along?
+I kept my taxi."
+
+Capt. J. A. Starkley-Davenport occupied three rooms and a bath in his
+own house, which was a big one in a desirable part of town. The
+remaining rooms were occupied by his servants. And such servants!
+
+The cook was so poor a performer that whenever the captain had guests
+for luncheon or dinner she sent out to a big hotel near by for the more
+important dishes--but her husband had been killed in Flanders, and her
+three sons were still in the field. Wilson, who had been Jack's father's
+color sergeant in South Africa, was the valet.
+
+The butler was a one-armed man of forty-five years who had served as a
+company sergeant major in the early days of the war; in rallying half a
+dozen survivors of his company he had got his arm in the way of a chunk
+of high-explosive shell and had decorated his chest with the
+Distinguished Conduct Medal. He had only the vaguest notions what his
+duties as butler required of him but occupied his time in arguing the
+delicate question of seniority with Wilson and the coachman and making
+frequent reports to the captain.
+
+The coachman, who had served forty years in the navy, most of the time
+as chief petty officer, claimed seniority of the butler and Wilson on
+the grounds of belonging to the senior service. But the ex-sergeants
+argued that the captain's house was as much a bit of the army as brigade
+headquarters in France, and that the polite thing for any sailorman to
+do who found a home there was to forget all about seniority; and that
+for their part they did not believe the British navy was older than the
+British army.
+
+Captain Starkley-Davenport introduced into this household his cousins
+from Beaver Dam, without apologies and with only a few words of
+explanation. In spite of the butler's protests, the valet and the
+coachman intruded themselves on the luncheon party, pretending to wait
+on table, but in reality satisfying their curiosity concerning the
+military gentlemen from Canada whose name was the front half of the
+captain's name. They paused frequently in their light duties round the
+table and frankly gave ear to the conversation. Their glances went from
+face to face with childish eagerness, intent on each speaker in turn.
+The captain did not mind, for he was accustomed to their ways and their
+devouring interest in him; Henry was puzzled at first and then amused;
+and Dick was highly flattered.
+
+"There isn't anyone of our blood in our regiment now, and that is what I
+particularly want to talk to you chaps about," said the captain, after a
+little talk on general subjects. "My father and young brother are gone,
+and the chances are that I won't get back. But the interests of the
+regiment are still mine--and I want the family to continue to have a
+stake in it. No use asking you to transfer, Henry, I can see that; you
+are a sapper and already proved in the field, and I know how sappers
+feel about their job; but Dick's an infantryman. What d'you say to
+transfer and promotion, Dick? You can get your commission in one of our
+new battalions as easy as kiss. It will help you and the old regiment."
+
+"But perhaps I shouldn't make a good officer," replied Dick. "I've never
+been in action, you know."
+
+"Don't worry about that. I'll answer for your quality. You wouldn't have
+enlisted if the right stuff wasn't in you."
+
+"But I'd like to prove it, first--although I'd like to be an officer
+mighty well. That's what I intend to be some day. I think I'll stick to
+the 26th a while. That would be fairer--and I'd feel better satisfied,
+if ever I won a commission, to have it in my own outfit. Frank Sacobie
+would feel sore if I left him, before we'd ever been in France together,
+to be an officer in another outfit. But there is Peter. He is a corporal
+already and a mighty good soldier."
+
+He told all about Peter and the queer way he was wounded back in Canada
+and then all about his friend, Frank Sacobie. The captain and the three
+attendants listened with interest. The captain asked many questions; and
+the butler, the valet and the coachman were on the point of doing the
+same many times.
+
+After luncheon Wilson, the elderly valet, took command gently but firmly
+and led the captain off to bed. The brothers left the addresses of
+themselves and Peter with the captain and promised to call at every
+opportunity and to bring Sacobie to see him at the first chance.
+
+Dick and Frank Sacobie continued their training, and in July Dick got
+his first stripe. A few members of the battalion went to the hospital,
+and a few were returned to Canada for one reason or another. In August a
+little draft of men fresh from Canada came to the battalion.
+
+One of the new men kept inquiring so persistently for Corp. Peter
+Starkley that in the course of time he was passed along to Dick, who
+told him about Peter.
+
+"I'm downright sorry to hear that," said the new arrival. "I saw him in
+Mr. Hammond's store one day and took a shine to him, but as you're his
+own brother I guess I'm in the right outfit. Hiram Sill is my name."
+
+They shook hands cordially.
+
+"I'm an American citizen and not so young as I used to be," continued
+Sill, "but the minute this war started I knew I'd be into it before
+long. Soldiering is a business now, and I am a business man. So it
+looked to me as if I were needed--as if the energy I was expending in
+selling boots and shoes for Maddock & Co. would count some if turned
+against the Kaiser. So I swore an oath to fight King George's enemies,
+and I guess I've made no mistake in that. King George and Hiram Sill see
+eye to eye and tooth to tooth in this war like two coons at a
+watermelon."
+
+In spite of the fact that Mr. Scammell's platoon was already up to
+strength, Sill worked his way into it.
+
+He had a very good reason for wanting to be in that particular platoon,
+and there were men already in it who had no particular reason for
+remaining in it instead of going to some other platoon; so--as Sill very
+justly remarked to Dick, to Sacobie, to Sergt. Hammer, to Lieut.
+Scammell and to Capt. Long--he did not see why he could not be where he
+wanted to be. Friendship for Frank Sacobie and Dick Starkley and
+admiration for Sergt. Hammer and Lieut. Scammell were the reasons he
+gave for wanting to be in that platoon.
+
+"He seems a friendly chap," said the adjutant to Mr. Scammell. "Will you
+take him? If so, you can let the Smith with the red head go over to
+Number Three, where he will be with a whole grist of lads from his own
+part of the country. What d'ye say? He looks smart and willing to me."
+
+"Sure I'll take him," said Mr. Scammell. "He says he admires me."
+
+So Hiram Sill became a member of Number Two Platoon. He worked with the
+energy of a tiger and with the good nature of a lamb. He talked a great
+deal, but always with a view to acquiring or imparting knowledge. When
+he found that his military duties and the cultivation of friendships did
+not use up all his time and energy, he set himself to the task of
+ascertaining how many Americans were enrolled in the First and Second
+Canadian divisions. Then indeed he became a busy man; and still his cry
+continued to be that soldiering was a business.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+PRIVATE SILL ACTS
+
+
+ON the night of September 15, 1915, the brigade of which the 26th
+Battalion was a unit crossed from Folkstone to Boulogne without
+accident. All the ranks were in the highest spirits, fondly imagining
+that the dull routine of training was dead forever and that the practice
+of actual warfare was as entertaining as dangerous.
+
+The brigade moved up by way of the fine old city of Saint Omer and the
+big Flemish town of Hazebrouck. By the fourth day after landing in
+France the whole brigade was established in the forward area of
+operations, along with the other brigades of the new division. On the
+night of the 19th the battalion marched up and went into hutments and
+billets close behind the Kemmel front. That night, from the hill above
+their huts, the men from New Brunswick beheld for the first time that
+fixed, fire-pulsing line beyond which lay the menace of Germany.
+
+The battalion went in under cover of darkness, and by midnight had taken
+over from the former defenders the headquarters of companies, the
+dugouts in the support trenches and the sentry posts in the fire trench.
+There were Dick Starkley and his comrades holding back the Huns from the
+throat of civilization. It was an amazing and inspiring position to be
+in for the first time. In front of them, just beneath and behind the
+soaring and falling star shells and Very lights, crouched the most
+ruthless and powerful armies of the world.
+
+To the right and left, every now and then, machine guns broke forth in
+swift, rapping fire. When the fire was from the positions opposite, the
+bullets snapped in the air like the crackings of a whip. The white stars
+went up and down. Great guns thumped occasionally; now and then a high
+shell whined overhead; now and then the burst of an exploding shell
+sounded before or behind. It was a quiet night; but to the new battalion
+it was full of thrills. The sentries never took their eyes from the
+mysterious region beyond their wire. Every blob of blackness beyond
+their defenses set their pulses racing and sent their hands to their
+weapons.
+
+Dick Starkley and Frank Sacobie stood shoulder to shoulder on the fire
+step for hours, staring with all their eyes and listening with all their
+ears. Hiram Sill sat at their feet and talked about how he felt on this
+very particular occasion. His friends paid no attention to him.
+
+"This is the proudest moment of my life," he said. "We are historic
+figures, boys--and that's a thing I never hoped to be. In my humble way,
+I stand for more than George Washington did. This is a bigger war than
+George ever dreamed of, and I have a bigger and better reason for
+fighting the Huns than Gen. Washington ever had for fighting the fool
+Britishers."
+
+"Did you see that?" asked Dick of Sacobie. "Over in the edge of their
+wire. There! Look quick now! Is it a man?"
+
+"Looks like a man, but it's been there right along and ain't moved yet,"
+said Frank. "Maybe it's a stump."
+
+Just then Lieut. Scammell came along. He got up on the fire step and,
+directed by Dick, trained his glass on the black thing in the edge of
+the enemy's wire. A German star shell gave him light.
+
+"That's a German--a dead one," he said. "I've been told about him. There
+was a bit of a scrap over there three nights ago, and that is one of the
+scrappers."
+
+Hiram forgot about Gen. Washington and mounted the fire step to have a
+look. He borrowed the officer's glass for the purpose.
+
+"Do his friends intend to leave him out there much longer, sir?" he
+asked. "If they do, it's a sure sign of weakness. They're scart."
+
+"They are scart, right enough--but I bet they wouldn't be if they knew
+this bit of trench was being held now by a green battalion," replied Mr.
+Scammell. "They'd be over for identifications if they knew."
+
+"Let them come!" exclaimed Private Sill. "I bet a dollar they wouldn't
+stay to breakfast--except a few who wouldn't want any."
+
+At that moment a rifle cracked to the right of them, evidently from
+their own trench and not more than one hundred yards away. It was
+followed close by a spatter of shots, then the smashing bursts of
+grenades, more musketry and the _rat-tat-tat_ of several machine guns.
+Bullets snapped in the air. Lights trailed up from both lines. Dull
+thumps sounded far away, and then came the whining songs of high-flying
+shells. Flashes of fire astonished the eye, and crashing reports stunned
+the ear.
+
+"They're at us!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "Open fire on the parapet
+opposite, unless you see a better target, and don't leave your posts.
+Keep low. Better use the loopholes."
+
+He left the fire step and ran along the duck boards toward the heart of
+the row.
+
+Dick and Frank Sacobie and Hiram Sill, firing rapidly through the
+loopholes, added what they could to the disturbance. Now and again a
+bullet rang against the steel plate of a loophole. One or another of
+them took frequent observations through a periscope, for at that time
+the Canadian troops were not yet supplied with shrapnel helmets. Dave
+Hammer, breathless with excitement, joined them for a few seconds.
+
+"They tried to jump us,--must have learned we're a green relief,--but
+we've chewed them up for fair!" he gasped. "Must have been near a
+hundred of 'em--but not one got through our wire. Keep yer heads down
+for a while, boys; they're traversing our top with emmagees."
+
+At last the enemy's artillery fire slackened and died. Ours drubbed away
+cheerily for another fifteen minutes, then ceased as quick and clean as
+the snap of a finger. The rifle fire and machine-gun fire dwindled and
+ceased. Even the up-spurting of the white and watchful stars diminished
+by half; but now and again one of them from the hostile lines, curving
+far forward in its downward flight, illuminated a dozen or more
+motionless black shapes in and in front of our rusty wire. Except for
+those motionless figures No Man's Land was again deserted. The big rats
+ran there undisturbed.
+
+Sacobie looked over the parapet; Hiram Sill and Dick sat on the fire
+step at the Malecite's feet. They felt as tired as if they had been
+wrestling with strong men for half an hour. Dave Hammer came along the
+trench and halted before them.
+
+"Those Huns or Fritzes or whatever you call them are crazy," he said.
+"Did you ever hear of such a fool thing as that? They've left a dozen
+dead out in front, besides what they carried home along with their
+wounded--and all they did to us was wound three of our fellows with that
+first bomb they threw, and two more with machine-gun fire."
+
+"Their officers must be boneheads, for sure," said Hiram. "War's a
+business,--and a mighty swift one,--and you can't succeed in business
+without knowing something about psychology. Yes, gentlemen, psychology,
+queer as it may sound."
+
+"Sounds mighty queer to me!" muttered Sacobie, glancing down.
+
+"You must study men," continued Private Sill, not at all abashed, "their
+souls and hearts and minds--if you want to make a success at anything
+except bee farming. Now, take this fool raid of the Huns. They were
+smart enough to find out that a bunch of greenhorns took over this
+trench to-night. So they thought they'd surprise us. Now, if they'd
+known anything about psychology, they'd have known that just because we
+were new and green we'd all be on our toes to-night, with our eyes
+sticking out a yard and our ears buttoned right back. Sure! Every man of
+us was on sentry duty to-night!"
+
+"I guess you've got the right idea, Old Psychology," said the sergeant.
+
+The 26th spent five days in the line on that tour. With the exception of
+one day and night of rain they had fine weather. They mended their wire
+and did a fair amount of business in No Man's Land. The enemy attempted
+no further raids; his last effort had evidently given him more
+information concerning the quality of the new battalion than he could
+digest in a week. At any rate he kept very quiet.
+
+At the end of the tour the battalion went back a little way to huts on
+the bushy flanks of Scherpenberg, where they "rested" by performing
+squad, platoon and company drill and innumerable fatigues. The time
+remaining at their disposal was devoted to football and base-ball and
+investigations of villages and farmsteads in the neighborhood.
+
+Their second tour in was more lively and less comfortable than the
+first. Under the drench of rain and the gnawing of dank and chilly mists
+their trenches and all the surrounding landscape were changed from dry
+earth to mud. Everything in the front line, including their persons,
+became caked with mud. The duck boards became a chain of slippery traps;
+and in low trenches they floated like rafts. The parapets slid in and
+required constant attention; and what the water left undone in the way
+of destruction the guns across the way tried to finish.
+
+It was hard on the spirit of new troops; they were toughened to severe
+work and rough living, but not to the deadening mud of a front-line
+trench in low ground. So their officers planned excitement for them, to
+keep the fire of interest alive in their hearts. That excitement was
+obtained in several ways, but always by a move of some sort against the
+enemy or his defenses. Patrol work was the most popular form of relief
+from muddy inaction. Lieut. Scammell quickly developed a skill in that
+and an appetite for it that soon drew the colonel's attention to himself
+and his followers.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+By the end of September, even the medical officers of New Brunswick had
+to admit that Corp. Peter Starkley was fully recovered from his wound.
+As for Peter himself, he affirmed that he had not felt anything of it
+for the past two months. He had worked at the haying and the harvesting
+on Beaver Dam and his own place without so much as a twinge of pain.
+
+Peter returned to his military duties eagerly, but inspired only by his
+sense of duty. His heart was more than ever in his own countryside; but
+despite his natural modesty he knew that he was useful to his king and
+country as a noncommissioned officer, and with that knowledge he
+fortified his heart. He tried to tell Vivia Hammond something of what he
+felt. His words were stumbling and inadequate, but she understood him.
+And at the last he said:
+
+"Vivia, don't forget me, for I shall be thinking of you always--more
+than of anyone or anything in the world." And then, not trusting his
+voice for more, he kissed her hastily.
+
+Vivia wept and made no attempt to hide her tears or the reason for them.
+
+Shortly before Peter's return to the army he had received a letter from
+Capt. Starkley-Davenport, telling of the reunion of the cousins in
+London and virtually offering him a commission in the writer's old
+regiment. Peter had also heard something of the plan from Dick a few
+days before. He answered the captain's letter promptly and frankly, to
+the effect that he had no military ambition beyond that of doing his
+duty to the full extent of his power against Germany, and that a
+commission in an English regiment was an honor he could accept only if
+it should come to him unavoidably, in the day's work.
+
+Peter reached England in the third week of October and with three
+hundred companions fresh from Canada was attached to a reserve battalion
+on St. Martin's Plain for duty and instruction. Peter was given the
+acting rank of sergeant. Early in December he crossed to France and
+reached his battalion without accident. He found that the 26th had
+experienced its full share of the fortunes and misfortunes of war.
+Scores of familiar faces were gone. His old platoon had suffered many
+changes since he had left it in St. John a year ago. Its commander, a
+Lieut. Smith, was an entire stranger to him, and he had known the
+platoon sergeant as a private. Mr. Scammell was now scout officer and
+expecting his third star at any moment. Dave Hammer, still a sergeant,
+and Dick, Sacobie and Hiram Sill also were scouts. Dick, was a corporal
+now and had never been touched by shot, shell or sickness. Sacobie had
+been slightly wounded and had been away at a field ambulance for a week.
+
+Peter rejoined his old platoon and, as it was largely composed at this
+time of new troops, was permitted to retain his acting rank of sergeant.
+He performed his duties so satisfactorily that he was confirmed in his
+rank after his first tour in the trenches.
+
+On the third night of Peter's second tour in the front line, Dave
+Hammer, Dick and Frank Sacobie took him out to show him about. All
+carried bombs, and Sergt. Hammer had a pistol as well. They were hoping
+to surprise a party of Germans at work mending their wire.
+
+Hammer slipped over the parapet. Peter followed him. Dick and Sacobie
+went over together, quick as the wink of an eye. Their faces and hands
+were black. With Dave Hammer in the lead, Peter at the very soles of his
+spiked boots and Dick and Sacobie elbow to elbow behind Peter, they
+crawled out through their own wire by the way of an intricate channel.
+When a star shell went up in front, near enough to light that particular
+area, they lay motionless. They went forward during the brief periods of
+darkness and half light.
+
+At last they got near enough to the German wire to see it plainly, and
+the leader changed his course to the left. When they lay perfectly still
+they could hear many faint, vague sounds in every direction: far, dull
+thuds before and behind them, spatters of rifle fire far off to the
+right and left, the bang of a Very pistol somewhere behind a parapet and
+now and then the crash of a bursting shell.
+
+A few minutes later Dave twisted about and laid a hand on Peter's
+shoulder. He gave it a gentle pull. Peter crawled up abreast of him.
+Dave put his lips to Peter's ear and whispered:
+
+"There they are."
+
+A twisty movement of his right foot had already signaled the same
+information to the veterans in the rear. Peter stared at the blotches of
+darkness that Dave had indicated. They did not move often or quickly and
+kept close to the ground. Sometimes, when a light was up, they became
+motionless and instantly melted from view, merging into the shadows of
+the night and the tangled wire. Now and then Peter heard some faint
+sound of their labor, as they worked at the wire.
+
+"Only five of them," whispered the scout sergeant. "They are scared
+blue. Bet their skunks of officers had to kick them out of the trench.
+Let's sheer off a few yards and give 'em something to be scared about."
+
+Just then Dick and Frank squirmed up beside them.
+
+"Some more straight ahead of us," breathed the Indian. "Three or four."
+
+Hammer used his glass and saw that Sacobie's eyes had not fooled him. He
+touched each of his companions to assure himself of their attention,
+then twisted sharp to the left, back toward their own line, and crawled
+away. They followed. After he had covered about ten yards, Dave turned
+end for end in his muddy trail, and the others came up to him and turned
+beside him. They saw that the wiring party and the patrol had joined.
+
+"Spread a bit," whispered Dave. "I'll chuck one at 'em, and when it
+busts you fellows let fly and then beat it back for the hole in our
+wire. Take cover if the emmagees get busy. I'll be right behind you."
+
+They moved a few paces to the right and left. Peter's lips felt dry, and
+he wanted to sneeze. He took a plump, cold, heavy little grenade in his
+muddy right hand. A few breathless, slow seconds passed and then
+_smash!_ went Dave's bomb over against the Hun wire. Then Peter stood up
+and threw--and three bombs exploded like one.
+
+Turning, Peter slithered along on all fours after Dick and Sacobie. The
+startled Huns lighted up their front as if for a national fęte; but
+Peter chanced it and kept on going. A shrapnel shell exploded overhead
+with a terrific sound, and the fat bullets spattered in the mud all
+round him. He came to another and larger crater and was about to skirt
+it when a familiar voice exclaimed:
+
+"Come in here, you idiot!"
+
+There was Dick and Frank Sacobie standing hip-deep in the mud and water
+at the bottom of the hole. Peter joined them with a few bushels of mud.
+A whiz-bang whizzed and banged red near-by, and the three ducked and
+knocked their heads together. The water was bitterly cold.
+
+"Did you think you were on your way to the barns to milk?" asked Dick.
+"Don't you know the machine guns are combing the ground?"
+
+"I'll remember," said Peter. "New work to me, and I guess I was a bit
+flustered. I wonder where Dave Hammer has got himself to."
+
+"Some hole or other, sure," said Sacobie. "Don't worry 'bout Dave. He
+put three bombs into them. I counted the busts. Fritz will quiet down in
+a few minutes, I guess, and let us out of here--if our fellows don't get
+gay and start all the artillery shootin' off."
+
+Our fellows did not get gay, our artillery refrained from shooting off,
+and soon the enemy ceased his frenzied musketry and machine gunning and
+bombing of his own wire and the harmless mud beyond. So Peter and Dick
+and Sacobie left their wet retreat and crawled for home. They found
+Sergt. Hammer waiting for them at the hole in the wire. He had already
+given the word to the sentry; and so they made the passage of the wire
+and popped into the trench. Hammer reported to Mr. Scammell, who was all
+ready to go out with another patrol; and then the four went back to
+their dugout in the support trench, devoured a mess of potatoes and
+onions, drank a few mugs of tea and retired to their blankets, mud and
+putties and all.
+
+That was the night of the 3d of December. In the battalion's summary of
+intelligence to the brigade it read like this:
+
+"Night of 23d-24th, our patrols active. Small patrol of four, under
+106254 Sgt. D. Hammer, encountered ten of the enemy in front of the
+German wire. Bombs were exchanged and six of the enemy were killed or
+wounded. Our patrol returned. 2.30 A. M. Lieut. Scammell placed tube in
+hostile wire which exploded successfully. No casualties."
+
+The next day passed quietly, with a pale glimmer of sunshine now and
+then, and between glimmers a flurry of moist snow. The Germans shouted
+friendly messages across No Man's Land and suggested a complete
+cessation of hostilities for the day and the morrow. The Canadians
+replied that the next Fritz who cut any "love-your-enemy" capers on the
+parapet would get what he deserved.
+
+"Peace on earth!" exclaimed the colonel of the 26th. "They are the
+people to ask for it, the murderers! No, this is a war with a
+reason--and we shoot on Christmas Eve just as quick as on any other
+day."
+
+The day passed quietly. Soon after sunset Mr. Scammell sent two of his
+scouts out to watch the gap in the German wire that he had blown with
+his explosive tube. They returned at ten o'clock and reported that the
+enemy had made no attempt to mend the gap. The night was misty and the
+enemy's illumination a little above normal.
+
+At eleven o'clock Lieut. Scammell went out himself, accompanied by
+Lieut. Harvey and nine men. They reached the gap in the enemy wire
+without being discovered, and there they separated. Mr. Harvey and two
+others moved along the front of the wire to the left, and a sergeant and
+one man went to the right. Mr. Scammell and his five men passed through
+the wire and extended a few yards to the left, close under the hostile
+parapet.
+
+The officer stood up, close against the wet sandbags. Dave Hammer, Dick,
+Peter, Hiram Sill and Sacobie followed his example.
+
+Then, all together, they tossed six bombs into the trench. The
+shattering bangs of six more blended with the bangs of the first volley.
+From right and left along the trench sounded other explosions.
+
+Obeying their officer's instructions, Scammell's men made the return
+journey through the wire and struck out for home at top speed, trusting
+to the mist to hide their movements from the foe.
+
+Scammell rid himself of three more bombs and then followed his party.
+The white mist swallowed them. The bombers ran, stumbled and ran again,
+eager to reach the shelter of their own parapet before the shaken enemy
+should recover and begin sweeping the ground with his machine guns.
+
+Sacobie and Dick were the first to get into the trench. Then came Sergt.
+Hammer and Lieut. Scammell, followed close by Lieut. Harvey and his
+party. By that time the German machine guns were going full blast.
+
+"Are Sergt. Starkley and Private Sill here?"
+
+"Don't see either of 'em, sir," Sergt. Hammer said in reply to Mr.
+Scammell's question.
+
+"Perhaps they got here before any of us and beat it for their dugout,"
+said Mr. Scammell. "Dick, you go along the trench and have a look for
+them. If they aren't in, come back and report to me. Wait right here for
+me, mind you--on _this_ side of the parapet. Get that?"
+
+Then the officer spoke a few hurried words to Sergt. Hammer, a few to
+the sentry, and went over the sandbags like a snake. Hammer went out of
+the trench at the same moment; and Frank Sacobie took one glance at the
+sentry and followed Hammer like a shadow. The mist lay close and cold
+and almost as wet as rain over that puddled waste.
+
+Mr. Scammell found Peter and Hiram about ten yards in front of the gap
+in our wire; the private was unhurt and the sergeant unconscious. Sill
+had his tall friend on his back and was crawling laboriously homeward.
+
+"Whiz-bang," he informed Mr. Scammell. "It got Pete bad, in the leg. I
+heard him grunt and soon found him."
+
+They regained the trench, picking up Hammer on the way, and sent Peter
+out on a stretcher. Sacobie came in at their heels; and no one knew that
+he had gone out to the rescue.
+
+That happened on Christmas morning. Before night the doctors cut off
+what little had been left below the knee of Peter's right leg.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V
+
+                     PETER'S ROOM IS AGAIN OCCUPIED
+
+
+LIFE was very dull round Beaver Dam after Peter had gone away. John and
+Constance Starkley and Flora and Emma felt that every room of the old
+house was so full of memories of the three boys that they could not
+think of anything else. John Starkley worked early and late, but a sense
+of numbness was always at his heart. There were times when he glowed
+with pride and even when he flamed with anger, but he was always
+conscious of the weight on his heart. His grief was partly for his
+wife's grief.
+
+He awoke suddenly very early one morning and heard his wife sobbing
+quietly. That had happened several times before, and sometimes she had
+been asleep and at other times awake. Now she was asleep, lonely for her
+boys even in her dreams. He thought of waking her; and then he reflected
+that, if awake, she would hide her tears, which now perhaps were giving
+her some comfort in her dreams.
+
+But he could not find his own sleep again. He lighted a candle, put on a
+few clothes and went downstairs to the sitting room. There were books
+everywhere, of all sorts, in that comfortable and shabby room. The brown
+wooden clock on the shelf above the old Franklin stove ticked drearily.
+It marked ten minutes past two. Mr. Starkley dipped into a volume of
+Charles Lever and wondered why he had ever laughed at its impossible
+anecdotes and pasteboard love scenes. He tried a report of the New
+Brunswick Agricultural Society and found that equally dry. A flyleaf of
+Treasure Island held his attention, for on it was penned in a round
+hand, "Flora with Dick's love, Christmas, 1914."
+
+"He was only a boy then," murmured the father. "Less than a year ago he
+was only a boy, and now he is a man, knowing hate and horror and
+fatigue--a man fighting for his life. They are all boys! Henry and
+Peter--Peter with his grand farm and fast mares, and his eyes like
+Connie's."
+
+John Starkley got out of his chair, trembling as if with cold. He walked
+round the room, clasping his hands before him. Then he took the candle
+from the table and held it up to the shelf above the stove. There stood
+photographs of his boys, in uniform. He held the little flame close to
+each photograph in turn.
+
+"Three sons," he said. "Three good sons--and not one here now!"
+
+A cautious rat-tat on the glass of one of the windows brought him out of
+his reveries with a start. He went to the window without a moment's
+hesitation, held the candle high and saw a face looking in at him that
+he did not recognize for a moment. It was a frightened and shamed face.
+The eyes met his for a fraction of a second and then shifted their
+glance.
+
+"James Hammond!" exclaimed Mr. Starkley. "Of all people!"
+
+He set the candle on the table and pushed up the lower sash of the
+window, letting in a gust of cold wind that extinguished the light
+behind him. He could see the bulk of his untimely visitor against the
+vague starlight.
+
+"Come in, James," he said. "By the window or the door, as you like."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Starkley," said Hammond in guarded tones. "The window
+will do. No strangers about, I suppose? Just the family?"
+
+"Only my wife and daughters," replied the farmer, and turned to relight
+the candle.
+
+Jim Hammond got quickly across the sill, pulled the sash down, and after
+it the green-linen shade. He stood near the wall, twirling his hat in
+his hand and shuffling his feet. When Mr. Starkley turned to him, he
+swallowed hard, glanced up and then as swiftly down again.
+
+"Queer time to make a call," said Hammond at last. "Near three o'clock,
+Mr. Starkley. I was glad to see your light at the window. I was scared
+to tap on the window, at first, for fear you'd send me away."
+
+"Send you away?" queried the farmer. "Why did you fear that, Jim? You,
+or any other friend, are welcome at this house at any hour of the day or
+night. But I must admit that your visit has taken me by surprise. I
+thought you were far away from this peaceful and lonely country, my
+boy--far away in Flanders."
+
+The blood flushed over Jim's face, and he stared at the farmer.
+
+"You thought I was in Flanders," he said. "In Flanders--me! So you don't
+know about me, Mr. Starkley? Peter didn't tell you about me?
+That--that's impossible. Don't you know--and every one else?"
+
+"I don't know what you are talking about," replied Mr. Starkley, as he
+pushed Jim into an armchair. "I can see that you are tired, however, and
+in distress of some sort. Why are you here, Jim--and why are you not in
+uniform? Tell me--and if I can help you in any way you may be sure that
+I will. Rest here and I'll get you something to eat. I did not notice at
+first how bad you look, Jim."
+
+"Never mind the food!" muttered young Hammond. "I'm not hungry, sir--not
+to matter, that is. But I'm dog-tired. I've been hiding about in the
+woods and in people's barns for a long time--and walking miles and
+miles. I--you say you don't know--I am a deserter--and worse."
+
+"You didn't go to France with your regiment? You deserted?"
+
+"I didn't go anywhere with it. Why didn't Peter tell you? I came home on
+pass--and gave them the slip. I--Peter was sent here to fetch me back.
+And he didn't tell you! And you thought I was in France! I came here
+because I was ashamed to go home."
+
+He suddenly leaned forward in his chair, with his elbows on his knees,
+and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook. John Starkley
+continued to gaze at him in silence for a minute or two, far too amazed
+and upset and bewildered to know what to say or do. He felt a great pity
+for the young man, whom he had always known as a prosperous and
+self-confident person. To see him thus--shabby, weary, ashamed and
+reduced to tears--was a most pitiful thing. A deserter! A coward! But
+even so, who was he to judge? Might not his sons have been like this,
+except for the mercy of God? Even now any one of his boys, or all three
+of them, might be in great need of help and kindness. He went over and
+laid a hand gently on his visitor's shoulder.
+
+"I don't know what you have done, exactly, or anything at all of your
+reason for doing it, but you are the son of a friend of mine and have
+been a comrade of one of my sons," he said. "Look upon me as a friend,
+Jim. You say you are a deserter. Well, I heard you. It is bad--but here
+is my hand."
+
+Jim Hammond raised his head and looked at Mr. Starkley with a
+tear-stained face.
+
+"Do you mean that?" he asked; and at the other's nod he grasped the
+extended hand.
+
+Mr. Starkley asked him no more questions then, but brought cold ham from
+the pantry and cider from the cellar and ate and drank with him. The
+visitor's way with the food and drink told its own story and sharpened
+the farmer's pity. They went upstairs on tiptoe.
+
+"This is Peter's room," said Mr. Starkley. "Sleep sound and as long as
+you please--till dinner time, if you like. And don't worry, Jim."
+
+The farmer returned to his own room and found his wife sleeping quietly.
+He wakened her and told her of young Hammond's visit and all that he
+knew of his story.
+
+"I am glad you took him in," she said. "We must help him for our boys'
+sakes, even if he is a deserter."
+
+"Yes," answered Mr. Starkley, "we must help him through his shame and
+trouble--and then he may right the other matter of his own free will.
+We'll give him a chance, anyway."
+
+It was dinner time when Jim Hammond awoke from his sleep of physical and
+nervous exhaustion. He was puzzled to know where he was at first, but
+the memory of the night's adventure came to him, bringing both shame and
+relief. He had no watch to tell him the time, and there was no clock in
+the room. He had brought nothing with him--not a watch, or a dollar, or
+a shirt--nothing except his guilt and his shame. He flinched at the
+thought of meeting Mrs. Starkley and the girls.
+
+A knock sounded on the door, and John Starkley looked in and wished him
+good morning. "If you get up now, Jim, you'll be in time for dinner," he
+said. "Here is hot water and a shaving kit--and a few duds of Henry's
+and Peter's you can use if you care to. Set your mind at rest about the
+family, Jim. I have told my wife all that I know myself, and she feels
+as I do. As for the girls--well, I will let them know as much as is
+necessary. We mean to help you to get on your feet again, Jim."
+
+The deserter shaved with care, dressed in his own seedy garments and
+went slowly downstairs. He entered the kitchen. Mrs. Starkley and Flora
+were there, busy about the midday dinner. They looked up at him and
+smiled as he appeared in the doorway, but their eyes and Flora's quick
+change of color told him of the quality of their pity. They would feel
+the same, he knew, for any broken and drunken tramp in the ditch. But he
+was a more despicable thing than a drunken tramp. He was a deserter, a
+coward. They knew that of him, for he saw it in their eyes that tried to
+be so frank and kind; and that was not the worst of him. He could not
+advance from the threshold or meet their glances again.
+
+Mrs. Starkley went to the young man quickly and, taking his hand in
+hers, drew him into the room. Flora came forward and gave him her hand
+and said she was glad to see him; and then Emma came in from the dining
+room and said, "Hello, Mr. Hammond! I hope you can stay here a long
+time; we are very lonely."
+
+His heart was so shaken by those words that his tongue was suddenly
+loosened. He looked desperately, imploringly round, and his face went
+red as fire and then white as paper.
+
+"I'll stay--if you'll let me--until I pick up my nerve again," he said
+quickly and unsteadily. "Keep me hidden here from Stanley and my folks.
+I'll work like a nigger. I am a deserter, as you all know--and I know
+that Peter didn't tell you so. I'd do anything for him, after that. I'm
+a runaway soldier, but it wasn't because I was afraid to fight. I'll
+show you as soon as I'm fit--I'll go and fight. It was my beastly temper
+and drink that did for me. I've been near crazy since. But I'll show you
+my gratitude some day--if you give me a chance now to work round to
+feeling something like a man again."
+
+Flora and Emma were tongue-tied by the stress of their emotions. They
+could only gaze at their guest with tear-dimmed eyes. But Mrs. Starkley
+went close to him and put a hand on each of his drooped shoulders.
+
+"Of course, my dear boy," she said. "You are only a boy, Jim, a year or
+two younger than Henry, I think. Trust us to help you."
+
+During dinner they talked about the country, the war, the weather and
+the stock--about almost everything but Jim Hammond's affairs.
+
+"What do you want me to do this afternoon?" asked Jim when the meal was
+over. "I don't know much about farm work, but I can use an axe and can
+handle horses."
+
+"I was ploughing this morning; and this may be our last day before the
+frost sets in hard," said Mr. Starkley. "What about hitching Peter's
+mares to a second plow?"
+
+"Suit me fine," said Jim.
+
+It was a still, bright October afternoon, with a glow in the sunshine, a
+smell of fern and leaf in the air and a veil of blue mist on the farther
+hills. Frosts had nipped the surface of things lightly a score of times
+but had not yet struck deep. Jim Hammond, in a pair of Peter's
+long-legged boots, guided a long plough behind Peter's black and sorrel
+mares. The mares pulled steadily, and the bright plough cut smoothly
+through the sod of the old meadow. Over against the fir woods on the far
+side of the meadow John Starkley went back and forth behind his grays.
+
+Jim rested frequently at the end of a furrow, for he was not in the pink
+of condition. He noticed, for the first time in his life, the faint
+perfume of the turned loam and torn grass roots. He liked it. His
+furrows, a little uneven at first, became straighter and more even until
+they were soon almost perfect.
+
+As the red sun was sinking toward the western forests, Emma appeared,
+climbing over the rail fence from a grove of young red maples. She
+carried something under one arm. She waved a hand to her father but came
+straight to Jim. He stopped the mares midway the furrow.
+
+"I made these gingernuts myself," said Emma, holding out an uncovered
+tin box to him. "See, they are still hot. Have some."
+
+He accepted two and found them very good. The girl looked over his work
+admiringly and told him she had never seen straighter furrows except a
+few of Peter's ploughing. Then she warned him that in half an hour she
+would blow a horn for him to stop and went across to her father with
+what was left of the gingernuts. Hammond went on unwinding the old sod
+into straight furrows until the horn blew from the house.
+
+After supper he played cribbage with Mr. Starkley; and that night he
+slept soundly and without dreaming. He awoke early enough to do his
+share of the feeding and milking before breakfast. The ploughs worked
+again that day, but the next night brought a frost that held tight.
+
+The days went by peacefully for Jim Hammond. He never went on the
+highway or away from Beaver Dam and Peter's place. Sometimes, when
+people came to the house, he sat by himself in his room upstairs. He did
+his share of all the barn work, twice a week helped Mrs. Starkley and
+the girls with the churning and cut cordwood and fence rails every day.
+He never talked much, but at times his manner was almost cheerful. And
+so the days passed and October ran into November. Snow came and letters
+from France and England. The family treated him like one of themselves,
+with never a question to embarrass him or a word to hurt him. He heard
+news of his family occasionally, but never tried to see them.
+
+"They think I am somewhere in the States, hiding--or that's what father
+thinks," he said to Flora. "Some day I'll write to mother--from France."
+
+December came and Christmas. Jim kept house that day while the others
+drove to Stanley and attended the Christmas service in the church on the
+top of the long hill. A week later a man in a coonskin coat drove up to
+the kitchen door. Jim recognized him through the window as the
+postmaster of Stanley and retired up the back stairs. John Starkley, who
+had just come in from the barns, opened the door.
+
+"A cablegram for you, Mr. Starkley," said the postmaster. "It was wired
+through from Fredericton."
+
+He held out the thin envelope. Mr. Starkley stared at it, but did not
+move. His eyes narrowed, and his face looked suddenly old.
+
+"No call to be afraid of it," said the postmaster, who was also the
+telegraph operator. "I received it and know what's in it."
+
+Mr. Starkley took it then and tore it open.
+
+"Peter wounded. Doing fine. Dick Starkley" is what he read. He sighed
+with relief and called to Mrs. Starkley and the girls. Then he invited
+the man from Stanley in to dinner, saying he would see to the horse in a
+minute.
+
+"You can't expect much better news than that from men in France," John
+Starkley said to his wife. "Wounded and doing fine--why, that's better
+than no news, by a long shot. He will be safe out of the line now for
+weeks, perhaps for months. Perhaps he will even get to England. He is
+safe at this very minute, anyway."
+
+He excused himself, went upstairs and told Jim Hammond the news.
+
+"That is twice for Peter already," he said, "once right at home and once
+in Flanders. If this one isn't any worse than the first, we have nothing
+to worry about."
+
+"I hope it is just bad enough to give him a good long rest," said Jim in
+a low voice.
+
+The postmaster stayed to dinner, and Emma smuggled roast beef and
+pudding up to Jim in his bedroom. No sooner had that visitor gone than
+another drove up. This other was Vivia Hammond; and once more Jim
+retired to his room. Vivia had heard of the cablegram, but nothing of
+its import. Her face was white with anxiety.
+
+"What is it?" she cried. "The cable--what is it about?"
+
+"Peter is right as rain--wounded but doing fine," said John.
+
+Vivia cried and then laughed.
+
+"I love Peter, and I don't care who knows it!" she exclaimed. "I hope he
+has lost a leg, so they'll have to send him home. That sounds
+dreadful--but I love him so--and what does a leg matter?" She turned to
+Mrs. Starkley. "Did he ever tell you he loved me?" she asked.
+
+"He didn't have to tell us," answered Mrs. Starkley, smiling.
+
+"He does! He does!" exclaimed the girl, and then began to cry again; and
+Jim, imprisoned upstairs, wished she would go home.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER VI
+
+                    DAVE HAMMER GETS HIS COMMISSION
+
+
+BY the middle of January, 1916, Peter was in London again, now minus one
+leg but otherwise in the pink of condition. Davenport, with his crutch
+and stick and shadowing valet, visited him daily in hospital. He and
+Peter wrote letters to Beaver Dam--and Peter wrote a dozen to Stanley.
+
+Capt. Starkley-Davenport had power. Warbroken and propped between his
+crutch and stick, still he was powerful. A spirit big enough to animate
+three strong men glowed in his weak body, and he went after the medical
+officers, nursing sisters and V. A. D.'s of that hospital like a
+lieutenant general looking for trouble. He saw that Peter received every
+attention, and then that every other man in the hospital received the
+same--and yet he was as polite as your maiden aunt. Several medical
+officers, including a colonel, jumped on him--figuratively
+speaking--only to jump back again as if they had landed on spikes.
+
+As soon as he regarded Peter as fit to be moved he took him to his own
+house. There the queer servants waited on Peter day and night in order
+of seniority. They addressed him as "Sergt. Peter, sir."
+
+Over in Flanders things had bumped and smashed along much as usual since
+Christmas morning. Mr. Scammell had read his promotion in orders and the
+London Gazette, had put up his third star and had gone to brigade as
+staff captain, Intelligence; and David Hammer, with the acting rank of
+sergeant major, carried on in command of the battalion scouts. Hiram
+Sill had been awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for his work on
+Christmas morning and the two chevrons of a corporal for his work in
+general. A proud man was Corp. Sill, with that ribbon on his chest.
+
+The changes and chances of war had also touched Dick Starkley and Frank
+Sacobie. Lieut. Smith had persuaded Dick to leave the scouts and become
+his platoon sergeant; Sacobie was made an acting sergeant--and the night
+of that very day, while he was displaying his new chevrons in No Man's
+Land, he received a wound in the neck that put him out of the line for
+two weeks.
+
+Henry Starkley--a captain now--managed to visit the battalion about
+twice a month. It was in the fire trench that he found Dick one mild and
+sunny morning of the last week of February. The brothers grinned
+affectionately and shook hands.
+
+"Peter has sailed for home, wooden leg and all," said Henry. "I got a
+letter yesterday from Jack Davenport. Except for the sneaking Hun
+submarines, Peter is fairly safe now."
+
+"I hope he makes the farm," said Dick. "He was homesick for it every
+minute and working out crop rotations on the backs of letters every
+night, in the line and out--except when he was fighting."
+
+"There was something about you in Jack's letter. He says that offer
+still stands, and he seems as anxious as ever about it."
+
+Dick sat down on the fire step, thrust out his muddy feet on the duck
+boards and gazed at them. He scratched himself meditatively in several
+places.
+
+"I'd like fine to be an officer," he said at last. "Almost any one
+would. But I don't want to leave this bunch just now. Jack's crowd will
+want officers in six months just as much as now--maybe more; and if I'm
+lucky--still in fighting shape six months from now--I'll be better able
+to handle the job."
+
+"I'll write that to Jack," said Henry. "He will understand--and your
+platoon commander will be pleased. He and the adjutant talked to me
+to-day as if something were coming to you--a D. C. M., I think. What
+happened to your first adjutant, Capt. Long, by the way?"
+
+"Long's gone west," replied Dick briefly.
+
+"I'm sorry to hear that. Shell get him?"
+
+"No, sniper. He took one chance too many."
+
+"I heard at the brigade on my way in that your friend, Dave Hammer, has
+his commission. I wonder if they have told him yet."
+
+"Good! Let's go along and tell him. He is sleeping to-day."
+
+They found Dave in his little dugout, with the mud of last night's
+expedition still caked on his person from heel to head. His blankets
+were cast aside, and he lay flat on his back and snored. His snores had
+evidently driven the proprietors of the other bunks out of that confined
+place, for he was alone. His muddy hands clasped and unclasped. He
+ceased his snoring suddenly and gabbled something very quickly and
+thickly in which only the word "wire" was recognizable. Then he jerked
+up one leg almost to his chin and shot it straight again with terrific
+force.
+
+"He is fighting in his dreams, just the way my old dog Snap used to,"
+said Dick. "We may as well wake him up, for he isn't resting."
+
+"Go to it--and welcome," said Henry. "It's an infantry job."
+
+Dick stooped and cried, "Hello, Dave!" but the sleeper only twitched an
+arm. "Wake up!" roared Dick. "Wake up and go to sleep right!" The
+sleeper closed his mouth for a second but did not open his eyes. He
+groaned, muttered something about too much light and began to snore
+again. Dick put a hand on his shoulder--and in the same breath of time
+he was gripped at wrist and throat with fingers like iron. Grasping the
+hand at his throat, Dick pulled a couple of fingers clear. Then the
+sleeper closed his mouth again and opened his eyes wide.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Dick!" he said. "Sorry. Must have been dreaming."
+
+He sat up and shook hands with Henry. When he heard of his promotion he
+blushed and got out of his bunk.
+
+"That's a bit of cheering news," he said "I'll have a wash on the
+strength of that, and something to eat. Wish we were out, and I'd give a
+little party. Wonder if I can raise a set of stars to wear to-night,
+just for luck."
+
+Henry went away half an hour later, and Dick returned to the fire
+trench. Capt. Keen, the adjutant, came looking for Hammer, found him
+still at his toilet and congratulated him heartily on his promotion.
+
+"Come along and feed with me, if you have had enough sleep," said the
+adjutant. "The colonel wants to see you. He had a talk with you
+yesterday, didn't he--about to-night's job?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and it will be a fine job, if the weather is just right.
+Looks now as if it might be too clear, but we'll know by sundown. I was
+dreaming about it a while ago. We were in, and I had a big sentry by the
+neck when Dick Starkley woke me up. I had grabbed Dick."
+
+"The colonel is right," said Capt. Keen. "You're working too hard,
+Hammer, and you're beginning to show it; your eyes look like the
+mischief. This fighting in your sleep is a bad sign."
+
+"The whole army could do with a rest, for that matter," replied Hammer,
+"but who would go on with the work? What I am worrying about now is rank
+badges. I'd like to doll up a bit for to-night."
+
+They went back to the sandbagged cellar under the broken farmhouse that
+served as headquarters for whatever battalion held that part of the
+line. On their way they had borrowed an old jacket with two stars on
+each sleeve from Lieut. Smith; and in that garment Dave Hammer appeared
+at the midday meal. The colonel, the medical officer, the padre and the
+quartermaster were there. They congratulated Dave on his promotion, and
+the colonel placed him at his right hand at the table on an upended
+biscuit box.
+
+The fare consisted of roast beef and boiled potatoes, a serviceable
+apple pie and coffee. The conversation was of a general character until
+after the attack on the pie--an attack that was driven to complete
+success only by the padre, who prided himself on the muscular
+development of his jaws. The commanding officer, somewhat daunted in
+spirit by the pastry, looked closely at the lieutenant.
+
+"You need a rest, Hammer," he said. "Keen, didn't I tell you yesterday
+that Hammer must take a rest? Doc, just slant an eye at this young
+officer and give me your opinion. Doesn't he look like all-get-out?"
+
+"Looks like get-out-of-the-front-line to me, sir," said the medical
+officer. "A couple of weeks back would set him on his feet. You say the
+word, sir, and I'll send him back this very day."
+
+"But the show!" exclaimed Hammer. "I must go out to-night, sir!"
+
+"Hammer is the only officer with his party, sir," said Capt. Keen to the
+colonel. "As you know, sir, we held the organization down this time to
+only one officer with each of our four parties--because officers are not
+very plentiful with us just now."
+
+"That's the trouble!" exclaimed the colonel. "They hem and haw and chew
+the rag over our recommendations for commissions and keep sending us
+green officers from England who don't know the fine points of the game.
+So here we are forced to let Hammer go out to-night, when he should be
+in his blankets. But back he goes to-morrow!"
+
+Dave had intended to sleep that afternoon, but the excitement caused by
+the news of his promotion made it impossible. He who had never missed a
+minute's slumber through fear of death was set fluttering at heart and
+nerves by the two worsted "pips" on each sleeve of his borrowed jacket.
+The coat was borrowed--but the right to wear the stars was his, his very
+own, earned in Flanders. He toured the trenches--fire, communication and
+support--feeling that his stars were as big as pie plates.
+
+Sentries, whose bayonet-tipped rifles leaned against the parapet,
+saluted and then grasped his hand. Subalterns and captains hailed him as
+a brother; and so did sergeants, with a "sir" or two thrown in. As Dave
+passed on his embarrassed but triumphant way down the trench his heart
+pounded as no peril of war had ever set it pounding. No emperor had ever
+known greater ache and uplift of glory than this grand conflagration in
+the heart and brain of Lieut. David Hammer, Canadian Infantry.
+
+He visited his scouts; and they seemed as pleased at his "pips" as if
+each one of them had got leave to London. Even Sergt. Frank Sacobie's
+dark and calm visage showed flickers of emotion. Corp. Hiram Sill, D. C.
+M., who visioned everything in a large and glowing style, saw in his
+mind's eye the King in Buckingham Palace agreeing with some mighty
+general, all red and gold and ribbons, that this heroic and deserving
+young man should certainly be granted a commission for the fine work he
+was doing with the distinguished scouts of that very fine regiment.
+
+"I haven't a doubt that was the way of it," said Old Psychology. "People
+with jobs like that are trained from infancy to grasp details; and I bet
+King George has the name of everyone of us on the tip of his tongue. You
+can bet your hat he isn't one to give away Distinguished Conduct Medals
+without knowing what he is about."
+
+Hiram joined in the laughter that followed his inspiring statements; not
+that he thought he had said anything to laugh at, but merely to be
+sociable.
+
+That "show" was to be a big one--a brigade affair with artillery
+coöperation. The battalion on the right was to send out two parties, one
+to bomb the opposite trench and the other to capture and demolish a
+hostile sap head--and together to raise Old Ned in general and so hold
+as much of the enemy's attention as possible from the main event. The
+battalion on the left was to put on an exhibition of rifle, machine-gun
+and trench-mortar fire that would assuredly keep the garrison opposite
+occupied with its own affairs.
+
+As for the artillery, it had already worked through two thirds of its
+elaborate programme. Four nights ago it had put on a shoot at two points
+in the hostile wire and front line, three hundred yards apart, short but
+hot. Then it had lifted to the support and reserve trenches. Three
+nights ago it had done much the same things, but not at the same hours,
+and on a wider frontage. The enemy, sure of being raided, had turned on
+his lights and his machine guns on both occasions--on nothing. He could
+do nothing then toward repairing his wire, for after our guns had
+churned up his entanglements our machine guns played upon the scene and
+kept him behind his parapet. The batteries had been quiet two nights
+ago, and Fritz, expecting a raid in force, had lost his nerve entirely.
+Our eighteen pounders had lashed him at noon the next day, and again at
+sunset and again at eleven o'clock; and so he had sat up all night again
+with his nerves.
+
+At four o'clock in the afternoon of this day of Dave Hammer's promotion
+the batteries went at it again, smashing wire and parapets with field
+guns and shooting up registered targets farther back with heavier metal.
+When hostile batteries retaliated, we did counter-battery work with such
+energy and skill that we soon had the last word in the argument. The
+deeds of the gunners put the infantry in high spirits.
+
+The afternoon grew misty; shortly after five o'clock there was a shower.
+At half past seven scouts went out from the 26th and the battalion on
+the right and, returning, reported that the wire was nicely ripped and
+chewed. At eight the battalion on the left put on a formidable
+trench-mortar shoot, which quite upset the nerve-torn enemy. Then all
+was at rest on that particular piece of the western front--except for
+the German illumination--until half past twelve.
+
+Half past twelve was Zero Hour. A misty rain was seeping down from a
+slate-gray sky. Six lieutenants in the fire trench of two battalions
+took their eyes from the dials of their wrist watches, said "time" to
+their sergeants and went over, with their men at their heels and elbows.
+The two larger parties from our battalion were to get into the opposite
+trench side by side, there separate one to the left and one to the
+right, do what they could in seven minutes or until recalled, then get
+out and run for home with their casualties--if any. They were to pass
+their prisoners out as they collared them. The smaller parties were made
+up of riflemen, stretcher bearers and escorts for the prisoners. The
+raiding parties were commanded by Mr. Hammer, with Sergt. Sacobie second
+in command, and Mr. Smith, with Sergt. Richard Starkley second in
+command. Corp. Hiram Sill was in Hammer's crowd.
+
+Captain Scammell from brigade, the colonel and the adjutant stood in the
+trench at the point of exit. Suddenly they heard the dry, smashing
+reports of grenades through the chatter of machine-gun fire on the left.
+The bombs went fast and furious, punctuated by the crack of rifles and
+bursts of pistol fire. S. O. S. rockets went up from the German
+positions; and, as if in answer to those signals, our batteries laid a
+heavy barrage on and just in rear of the enemy's support trenches. The
+colonel flashed a light on his wrist.
+
+"They have been in four minutes," he said.
+
+At that moment a muddy figure with blackened face and hands and a slung
+rifle on his back scrambled into the trench, turned and pulled something
+over the parapet that sprawled at the colonel's feet.
+
+"Here's one of them, sir; and there's more coming," said the man of mud.
+"Ah! Here's another. Boost him over, you fellers."
+
+       [Illustration: "'HERE'S ONE OF THEM, SIR; AND THERE'S MORE
+                    COMING,' SAID THE MAN OF MUD."]
+
+Into the trench tumbled another Fritz, and then a third, and then a
+Canadian, and then two more prisoners and the third Canadian.
+
+"Five," said the last of the escort. "Us three started for home with
+eight, but something hit the rest of 'em--T-M bomb, I reckon."
+
+"Sure it was," said the Canadian who had arrived first. "Don't I know? I
+got a chunk of it in my leg." He stooped and fumbled at the calf of his
+right leg. The adjutant turned a light on him, and the man extended his
+hand, dripping with blood.
+
+"You beat it for the M. O., my lad," said the colonel.
+
+Five more prisoners came in under a guard of two; and then six more of
+the raiders arrived, two of whom were carrying Lieut. Smith. The
+lieutenant's head was bandaged roughly, and the dressing was already
+soaked with blood.
+
+"We did them in, sir," he said thickly to the colonel. "Caught them in
+bunches--and bombed three dugouts."
+
+He was carried away, still muttering of the fight. By that time the
+majority of the other parties were in. Several of the men were
+wounded--and they had brought their dead with them, three in number. The
+Germans had turned their trench mortars on their own front line from
+their support trenches.
+
+"They're not all in yet," said Capt. Keen. "Hammer isn't in."
+
+Just then Dick Starkley slid into the trench.
+
+"That you, Dick? Did you see Mr. Hammer? Or Frank Sacobie? Or Bruce
+McDonald?"
+
+"I have McDonald--but some one's got to help me lift him over," said
+Dick breathlessly. "Heavy as a horse--and hit pretty bad!"
+
+Two men immediately slipped over the top and hoisted big McDonald into
+the trench. Hiram Sill put a hand on Dick's shoulder.
+
+"Dave Hammer and Sacobie," he whispered, "are still out. Hadn't we
+better--"
+
+"Right," said Dick. "Come on out." He turned to Capt. Scammell. "Please
+don't let the guns shorten for a minute or two, sir; Sill and I have to
+go out again."
+
+Without waiting for an answer they whipped over the sandbags. Hiram was
+back in two minutes. He turned on the fire step and received something
+that Dick and Frank Sacobie lifted over to him. It was Dave Hammer,
+unconscious and breathing hoarsely, with his eyes shut, his borrowed
+tunic drenched with mud and blood and one of his bestarred sleeves shot
+away. Capt. Scammell swayed against the colonel and, for a second, put
+his hand to his eyes.
+
+"Steady, lad, steady," said the colonel in a queer, cracked voice.
+"Keen, tell the guns to drop on their front line with all they've
+got--and then some."
+
+To the whining and screeching of our shells driving low overhead and the
+tumultuous chorus of their exploding, passed the undismayed soul of
+Lieut. David Hammer of the Canadian Infantry.
+
+Heedless of the coming and going of the shells and the quaking of the
+parapet, Sacobie sat on the fire step with his hands between his knees
+and stared fixedly at nothing; but Hiram Sill and young Dick Starkley
+wept without thought of concealment, and their tears washed white
+furrows down their blackened faces.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII
+
+                         PETER WRITES A LETTER
+
+
+IN March, 1916, Sergt. Peter Starkley got back to his own country,
+bigger in the chest and an inch taller than when he had gone away. He
+walked a little stiffly on his right foot, it is true--but what did that
+matter? His letters to the people at home had, by intention, given them
+only a vague idea of the possible date of his arrival. They knew that he
+was coming, that he was well, and that his new leg was such a
+masterpiece of construction that he had danced on it in London on two
+occasions. Otherwise he was unannounced.
+
+He went to the town of Stanley first and left his baggage in the freight
+shed at the siding. With his haversack on his shoulder and a stout stick
+in his right hand, he set out along the white and slippery road. Before
+he got to the bridge a two-horse sled overtook him, and the driver, an
+elderly man whom he did not know, invited him to climb on. Peter
+accepted the invitation with all the agility at his command.
+
+"You step a mite lame on your right leg," said the driver.
+
+"That's so," replied Peter, smiling.
+
+"Been soldierin', hey? See any fight-in'?"
+
+"Yes, I've been in Flanders."
+
+"That so? I've got a boy in the war. Smart boy, too. They give him a job
+right in England. He wears spurs to his boots, he does; and it ain't
+everyone kin wear them spurs, he writes me. This here war ain't all in
+Flanders. We had some shootin' round here about a year back out Pike's
+Settlement way. A young feller in soldier uniform was drivin' along, and
+some one shot at him from the woods. That's what _he_ said, but my
+boy--that was afore he went to the war--says like enough he shot himself
+so's to git out of goin'. He's a smart lad--that's why they give him a
+job in England. Army Service Corps, he is--so I reckon maybe he's right
+about that feller shootin' himself."
+
+"What's his name?" asked Peter quietly.
+
+"Starkley. Peter Starkley from Beaver Dam."
+
+"I'm asking the name of that smart son of yours."
+
+"Gus Todder's his name--Gus Todder, junior. Maybe you know him," was the
+reply.
+
+"No, but I've got his number," said Peter. "You tell him so in the next
+letter you write him. Tell him that Sergt. Peter Starkley of the 26th
+Canadian Infantry Battalion will be glad to see him when he comes home;
+tell him not to cut himself on those spurs of his in the meantime; and
+you'd better advise him to warn _his father_ not to shoot his mouth off
+in future to military men about things he is ignorant of. Here's where I
+get off. Thanks for the lift."
+
+Peter left the sled, but turned at the other's voice and stood looking
+back at him.
+
+"I didn't get the hang of all that you was sayin'," said Todder. He was
+plainly disconcerted.
+
+"Never mind; your son will catch the drift of it," replied Peter. "I am
+too happy about getting home to be fussy about little things, but don't
+chat quite so freely with every returned infantryman you see about your
+son's smartness. You call it smartness--but the fellows up where I left
+my right leg have another name for it."
+
+Opening the white gate, he went up the deep and narrow path between snow
+banks to the white house. At the top of the short flight of steps that
+led to the winter porch that inclosed the front door, he looked over his
+shoulder and saw Todder still staring at him. Peter grinned and waved
+his hand, then opened the door of the porch.
+
+As he closed the door behind him, the house door opened wide before him.
+Vivia stood on the threshold. She stared at him with her eyes very round
+and her lips parted, but she did not move or speak. She held her slim
+hands clasped before her--clasped so tight that the knuckles were
+colorless. Her small face, which had been as pale as her clasped hands
+at the first glimpse, turned suddenly as red as a rose; and her eyes,
+which had been very bright even to their wonderful depths, were dimmed
+suddenly with a shimmer of tears. And for a long time--for ten full
+seconds, it may have been--Peter also stood motionless and stared. The
+heavy stick slipped from his fingers and fell with a clatter on the
+floor of the porch. He stepped forward then and enfolded her in his
+khaki-clad arms, safe and sure against the big brass buttons of his
+greatcoat; and just then the door of the porch opened, and Mr. Todder
+said:
+
+"I ain't got the hang of yer remarks yet, young feller."
+
+"Chase yourself away home," replied Peter, without turning his head; and
+there was something in the tone of his voice that caused Mr. Todder to
+withdraw his head from the porch and to retire, muttering, to his sled.
+Vivia had not paid the slightest heed to the interruption. She drew
+Peter into the hall.
+
+"I was afraid," she whispered. "I didn't know how much they had hurt
+you, Peter--but I wasn't afraid of that. I should love you just as much
+if they had crippled you,--I am so selfish in my love, Peter,--but I was
+afraid, at first, that I might see a change in your eyes."
+
+"There couldn't be a change in my eyes when I look at you, unless I were
+blind," said Peter. "Even if I were blind, I guess I could see you. But
+I am the same as I was, inside and out--all except a bit of a patent
+leg."
+
+Just then Mrs. Hammond made her discreet appearance, expressed her joy
+and surprise at the sight of Peter and ventured a motherly kiss. Mr.
+Hammond came in from the store half an hour later and welcomed Peter
+cordially. The man had lost weight, and his face was grim. He got Peter
+to himself for a few minutes just before supper.
+
+"Jim is still on the other side the border somewhere, I guess," he said,
+"though I haven't heard from him for months. I've kept the shooting
+business quiet, Peter--and even about his deserting; but I had to tell
+his mother and Vivia that he wasn't any good as a soldier and had gone
+away. I made up some kind of story about it. Other people think he's in
+France, I guess--even your folks at Beaver Dam. But what do you hear of
+Pat? He isn't much of a hand at writing letters, but was well when he
+wrote last to his mother."
+
+"I didn't see him over there, but Henry ran across him and said that he
+is doing fine work. He's got his third pip and is attached to
+headquarters of one of the brigades of the First Division as a learner.
+He has been wounded once, I believe, but very slightly."
+
+"And I used to think that Pat wasn't much good--too easy-going and
+loose-footed," said Mr. Hammond bitterly. "My idea of a man was a
+storekeeper. Well, I think of him now, and I stick out my chest--and
+then I remember Jim, and my chest caves in again."
+
+They were interrupted then by Vivia; so nothing more was said about the
+deserter. After supper Peter had to prove to the family that he could
+dance on his new leg.
+
+"I'll hitch the grays to the pung," said Mr. Hammond when about eight
+o'clock Peter got ready to go. "It's a fine night, and the roads are a
+marvel. I'll drive you home."
+
+"And I am going too," said Vivia.
+
+Dry maple sticks burned on the hearth of the big Franklin stove in the
+sitting room of Beaver Dam. Flora sat at the big table writing a letter
+to Dick; John Starkley and Jim Hammond played checkers; and Mrs.
+Starkley nodded in a chair by the fire. Emma had gone to bed. John
+Starkley had his hand raised and hovering for a master move when a
+jangle of bells burst suddenly upon their ears. Flora darted to a
+window, and the farmer hastened to the front door; but by the time Flora
+had drawn back the curtains and her father had opened the door Jim
+Hammond was upstairs and in his room.
+
+Jim did not light the candle that stood on the window sill at the head
+of his bed. He closed the door behind him. The blind was up; starshine
+from the world of white and purple and silver without sifted faintly
+into the little room. He stood for a minute in the middle of the floor,
+listening to the broken and muffled sounds of talk and laughter from the
+lower hall. He heard a trill of Vivia's laughter. What had brought Vivia
+out again, he wondered. News of Peter, beyond a doubt; and good news, to
+judge by the sounds. He seated himself cautiously on the edge of the
+bed.
+
+Now he heard his father's voice. Yes--and John Starkley was laughing.
+There was another man's voice, but he could hear only a low note of it
+now and then in the confused, happy babble of sound. A door shut--and
+then he could not hear anything. He wondered who the third man was and
+decided that he probably was some one from the village who had just
+arrived home and who had brought messages from Peter. Perhaps, he
+thought, Peter was even then on his way from England.
+
+Jim sat there with the faint shine of the stars falling soft on the rag
+carpet at his feet and thought what wonderful people the Starkleys were.
+They had taken him in and treated him like one of the family--and like a
+white man. Now that Peter was coming home and would be able to help with
+the work, he would go away and show John Starkley that he had found his
+courage and his manhood. He had made his plans in a general way weeks
+before. He would go to another province and enlist in the artillery or
+in the infantry under an assumed name; if he "made good," or got killed,
+John Starkley would tell all the good he could of him to his family in
+Stanley. Already he felt lonely, a dreary chill of homesickness, at the
+thought of leaving Beaver Dam.
+
+A door opened and closed downstairs, but Jim Hammond was too busy with
+his thoughts and high resolves to hear the faint sounds. He even did not
+hear the feet on the carpeted stairs--and a hand was on the latch of the
+door before he knew that some one was about to enter the room. He sat
+rigid and stared at the door.
+
+The door opened and some one entered who bulked large and tall in the
+pale half gloom of the room. The visitor halted and turned his face
+toward the bed.
+
+"Who's there?" he asked; and Jim could see the shoulders lower and
+advance a little and the whole figure become tense as if for attack.
+
+"It's me, Peter!" whispered Jim sharply "Shut the door quick!"
+
+"You! You, Jim Hammond!" said Peter in a voice of amazement and anger.
+"What the mischief are you doing here?" Without turning his face from
+the bed he shut the door behind him with his heel. "Light the candle and
+pull down the shade. Let me see you."
+
+Jim got to his feet and reached for the shade, but Peter spoke before he
+touched it.
+
+"No! The candle first!" exclaimed Peter, with an edge to his voice. "I
+don't trust you in the dark any more than I trust you in the woods."
+
+Hammond struck a match and lit the candle, then drew down the shade and
+turned with his back to the window. His face was pale. "I didn't figure
+on your getting home so soon," he said in an unsteady voice. "I didn't
+intend to be here. I thought I'd be gone before you came."
+
+"What are you doing here, anyway?" demanded Peter. "What's the game?
+Sitting in my room, on my bed, quite at home, by thunder! And your
+father thinks you are in the States. Does my father know you are here?"
+
+Jim smiled faintly. "Yes, he knows--and all your folks know. I've been
+here since about the middle of October, working, and sleeping in this
+room every night. My people don't know where I am--but when I get to
+France you can tell them. Your father doesn't know that it was I who
+fired that shot--and when I found you hadn't told him that, or even that
+I was a deserter, I felt it was up to me to do my best for you while you
+were away. So I've worked hard and been happy here; and I'll be sorry to
+go away--but I must go now that you're home again. Don't tell my people
+I'm here, Peter."
+
+"You have been living here ever since the middle of October, working
+here, and your own father and mother don't know where you are?"
+
+"Your people are the only ones who know."
+
+Peter eyed him in silence for a minute.
+
+"Why did you shoot me, Jim?" he asked more gently.
+
+"How do I know?" exclaimed Hammond. "I was drinking; I was just about
+mad with drink. I liked you well enough, Peter,--I didn't want to kill
+you,--but the devil was in me. It was drink made me act so bad in St.
+John; it was drink made me desert; it was drink that came near making a
+murderer of me. That's the truth, Peter--and now I wish you'd go
+downstairs, for I don't want my father or Vivia to find me here--or to
+know anything about me till I'm in France."
+
+"Shall I find you here when I come back?" asked Peter.
+
+"I'll come downstairs as soon as they go," said Hammond.
+
+Peter was about to leave the room when he suddenly remembered the errand
+that had brought him away from the company downstairs. It was a
+photograph of himself taken at the age of five years. Vivia had heard of
+it and asked for it; and before either of his parents or Flora had been
+able to think of a way of stopping him he had started upstairs for it.
+Now he found it on the top of a shelf of old books and wiped off the
+dust on his sleeve.
+
+"Vivia wants it," he said, smiling self-consciously.
+
+He found Flora waiting at the head of the stairs for him.
+
+"It's all right; I've had a talk with him," he whispered, and when he
+reached the sitting room he met the anxious glances of his parents with
+a smile and nod that set their immediate anxieties at rest.
+
+It was past midnight when Vivia and her father drove away. Then Jim came
+downstairs, and Peter shook hands with him in the most natural way in
+the world.
+
+"When we met in my bedroom we were both too astonished to shake hands,"
+explained Peter.
+
+"You must sleep in Dick's room now, Peter," said Mrs. Starkley.
+
+"Only for one night," said Jim, trying to smile but making a poor job of
+it. "I'll be off to-morrow, now that Peter is home again--just as I
+planned all along, you know. I--it isn't the going back to the army I
+mind; it is--leaving you people."
+
+He smiled more desperately than ever.
+
+Mrs. Starkley and Flora did not dare trust their voices to reply. John
+Starkley laid a hand on Jim's shoulder and said, "Go when it suits you,
+Jim, and come back when it suits you--and we shall miss you when you are
+away, remember that."
+
+The three men sat up for another hour, talking of Peter's experiences
+and Jim's plans. They went upstairs at last, but even then neither Peter
+nor Jim could sleep, for the one was restless with happiness and the
+other with the excitement of impending change. Peter would see Vivia on
+the morrow, and Jim would meet strange faces. Peter had returned to the
+security that he had fought and shed his blood for and to the life and
+people he loved; Jim's fighting was all before him, and behind him a
+disgrace to be outlived.
+
+After a while Peter got up and went to Jim's room in his pyjamas; he sat
+on the edge of Jim's bed, and they talked of the fighting over in
+France.
+
+"I've been thinking about my reënlistment," said Jim, "and I guess I'll
+take a chance on my own name. It's my name I want to make good."
+
+"Sounds risky--but I don't believe it is as risky as it sounds," said
+Peter.
+
+"Not if I go far enough away to enlist--to Halifax or Toronto. There
+must be lots of Hammonds in the army. I'll take the risk, anyway. It
+isn't likely I'll run across any of the old crowd. None of our old
+officers would be hard on me, I guess, if they found me fighting and
+doing my duty."
+
+"Capt. Long is dead. A great many of the old crowd are dead, and others
+have been promoted out of the regiment. Remember Dave Hammer?"
+
+"Yes. If I could ever be as good a soldier as Dave Hammer I think I'd
+forget--except sometimes in the middle of the night, maybe--what a mean,
+worthless fellow I have been."
+
+"I'll tell you what, Jim," said Peter suddenly, "I'll write a letter for
+you to carry; and if any one spots you over there and is nasty about it,
+you go to any officer you know in the old battalion and tell the truth
+and show my letter. I guess that will clear your name, Jim, if you do
+your duty."
+
+"You don't mean to put _everything_ in the letter, do you?"
+
+"Only what is known officially--that you went home from your regiment
+here in Canada on pass, started acting the fool and deserted. That is
+the charge against you, Jim--desertion. But it is the mildest sort of
+desertion, and reënlistment just about offsets it. The same thing done
+in France in the face of the enemy is punished--you know how."
+
+"Yes, I know how it is punished," said Hammond. "You wouldn't worry
+about that if you knew as much about how I feel now as I do myself. Of
+course I've got to prove it before you'll believe it, Peter, but I'm not
+afraid to fight."
+
+When Peter had gone back to his room, he sat down to write the letter
+that Jim Hammond was to carry in his pocket. It was a long letter, and
+Peter was a slow writer. He spared no pains in making every point of his
+argument perfectly clear. He staked the military reputation of the whole
+Starkley family on James Hammond's future behavior as a soldier. He
+sealed it with red wax and his great-grandfather's seal and addressed
+the envelope to "Any Officer of the 26th Can. Infty. Bn. or of any Unit
+of the Can. Army Corps of the B. E. F." When finally he had the letter
+done, it was morning.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VIII
+
+                           THE 26TH "MOPS UP"
+
+
+AFTER Jim Hammond went away from Beaver Dam he wrote to Mrs. Starkley
+from Toronto, saying that he had enlisted in a new infantry battalion
+and that all was well with him. That was the last news from him, or of
+him, to be received at Beaver Dam for many months.
+
+The war held and crushed and sweated on the western front. Every day
+found the Canadians in the grinding and perilous toil of it. In April,
+1916, the Second Canadian Division held the ground about St. Eloi
+against terrific onslaughts. Then and there were fought those desperate
+actions known as the Battles of the Craters. Hiram Sill, D. C. M., now a
+sergeant, received a wound that put him out of action for nearly two
+months. Dick Starkley was buried twice, once beneath the lip of one of
+the craters as it returned to earth after a jump into the air, and again
+in his dugout. No bones were broken, but he had to rest for three days.
+
+Other Canadian divisions moved into the Ypres salient in April--back to
+their first field of glory of the year before. That salient of terrible
+fame, advanced round the battered city of Ypres like a blunt spearhead
+driven into the enemy's positions, will live for centuries after its
+trenches are leveled. British soldiers have fallen in their tens of
+thousands in and beyond and on the flanks of that city of destruction.
+From three sides the German guns flailed it through four desperate
+years. Masses of German infantry surged up and broke against its torn
+edges, German gas drenched it, liquid fire scorched it, and mines
+blasted it. Now and again the edge of that salient was bent inward a
+little for a day or a week; but in those four years no German set foot
+in that city of heroic ruins except as a prisoner.
+
+The 26th Battalion celebrated Dominion Day--July 1st--by raiding a
+convenient point of the German front line. The assault was made by a
+party of twenty-five "other ranks" commanded by two junior officers. It
+was supported by the fire of our heavy field guns and heavy and medium
+trench mortars.
+
+Sergts. Frank Sacobie and Hiram Sill were of the party, but Dick
+Starkley was not. Dick could not be spared for it from his duties with
+his platoon, for he was in acting command during the enforced absence of
+Lieut. Smith, who was suffering at a base hospital from a combination of
+gas and fever. The men from New Brunswick were observed by the garrison
+of the threatened trench while they were still on the wrong side of the
+inner line of hostile wire, and a heavy but wild fire was opened on them
+with rifles and machine guns. But the raiders did not pause. They passed
+through the last entanglement, entered the trench, killed a number of
+the enemy and collected considerable material for identification. Their
+casualties were few, and no wound was of a serious nature. Hiram Sill
+was dizzy and bleeding freely, but cheerful. One small fragment of a
+bomb had cut open his right cheek, and another had nicked his left
+shoulder. Sacobie carried him home on his back.
+
+It was a little affair, remarkable only as a new way of celebrating
+Dominion Day, and differed only in minor details from hundreds of other
+little bursts of aggressive activity on that front.
+
+Later in the month a Distinguished Service Order, two Military Crosses,
+four Distinguished Conduct Medals and five Military Medals were awarded
+to the battalion in recognition of its work about St. Eloi. Dick
+Starkley and Frank Sacobie each drew a D. C. M. A few days after that
+Lieut. Smith returned from Blighty and took back the command of his
+platoon from Dick; and at the same time he informed Dick that he was
+earmarked for a commission.
+
+The Canadians began their march from the Ypres salient to the Somme on
+September 1, 1916. They marched cheerfully, glad of a change and hoping
+for the best. The weather was fine, and the towns and villages through
+which they passed seemed to them pleasant places full of friendly
+people. They were going to fight on a new front; and, as became
+soldiers, it was their firm belief that any change would be for the
+better.
+
+On the 8th of September, while on the march, Dick Starkley was gazetted
+a lieutenant of Canadian Infantry. Mr. Smith found his third star in the
+same gazette, and Dick took the platoon. Henry visited the battalion a
+few days later and presented to the new lieutenant an old uniform that
+would do very well until the London tailors were given a chance. Dick
+was a proud soldier that day; and an opportunity of showing his new
+dignity to the enemy soon occurred. That opportunity was the famous
+battle of Courcelette.
+
+From one o'clock of the afternoon of September 14 until four o'clock the
+next morning our heavy guns and howitzers belabored with high explosive
+shells the fortified sugar refinery and its strong trenches and the
+village of Courcelette beyond. Then for an hour the big guns were
+silent. The battalions of the Fourth and Sixth Brigades waited in their
+jumping-off trenches before Pozičres. The Fifth Brigade, of which the
+26th Battalion was a unit, rested in reserve.
+
+Dawn broke with a clear sky and promise of sunshine and a frosty tingle
+in the air. At six o'clock the eighteen-pounder guns of nine brigades of
+artillery, smashing into sudden activity, laid a dense barrage on the
+nearest rim of the German positions. Four minutes later the barrage
+lifted and jumped forward one hundred yards, and the infantry climbed
+out of their trenches and followed it into the first German trench. The
+fight was on in earnest, and in shell holes, in corners of trenches and
+against improvised barricades many great feats of arms were dared and
+achieved. A tank led the infantry against the strongly fortified ruins
+of the refinery and toppled down everything in its path.
+
+Lieut. Dick Starkley and his friends gave ear all morning to the din of
+battle, wished themselves farther forward in the middle of it and
+wondered whether the brigades in front would leave anything for them to
+do on the morrow. Messages of success came back to them from time to
+time. By eight o'clock, after two hours of fighting, the Canadians had
+taken the formidable trenches, the sugar refinery, a fortified sunken
+road and hundreds of prisoners. The way was open to Courcelette.
+
+"If they don't slow up--if they don't quit altogether this very
+minute--they'll be crowding right in to Courcelette and doing us out of
+a job!" complained Sergt. Hiram Sill. "That's our job, Courcelette
+is--our job for to-morrow. They've done what they set out to do, and if
+they go ahead now and try something they haven't planned for, well,
+they'll maybe bite off more than they can chew. The psychology of it
+will be all wrong; their minds aren't made up to that idea."
+
+"I guess the idee ain't the hull thing," remarked a middle-aged
+corporal. "Many a good job has been done kind of unexpectedly in this
+war. I reckon this here psychology didn't have much to do with your D.
+C. M."
+
+"That's where you're dead wrong, Henry," said Hiram. "I knew I'd get a
+D. C. M. all along, from the first minute I ever set foot in a trench.
+My mind and my spirit were all made up for it. I knew I'd get a D. C. M.
+just as sure as I know now that I'll get a bar to it--if I don't go west
+first."
+
+Dick, who had joined the group, laughed and smote Hiram on the shoulder.
+
+"You're dead right!" he exclaimed. "Old Psychology, you're a wonder of
+the age! Be careful what you make up your heart and soul and mind to
+next or you'll find yourself in command of the division."
+
+"What do you mean, lieutenant?" asked Sill.
+
+"You've been awarded the D. C. M. again, that's all!" cried Dick,
+shaking him violently by the hand. "You've got your bar, Old Psychology!
+Word of it just came through from the Brigade."
+
+Sergt. Sill blushed and grew pale and blushed again.
+
+"Say, boys, I'm a proud man," he said. "There are some things you can't
+get used to--and being decorated for distinguished conduct on the field
+of glory is one of them, I guess. If you'll excuse me, boys,--and you,
+lieutenant,--I'll just wander along that old trench a piece and think it
+over by myself."
+
+The way was open to Courcelette. The battalions that had done the work
+in a few hours and that, despite a terrific fire from the enemy, had
+established themselves beyond their final objective, were anxious to
+continue about this business without pause and clean up the strongly
+garrisoned town. They had fought desperately in those few hours,
+however, and the enemy's fire had taken toll of them, and so they were
+told to sit tight in their new trenches; but the common sense of their
+assertion that Courcelette itself should be assaulted without loss of
+time, before the beaten and astounded enemy could recover, was admitted.
+
+At half past three o'clock that afternoon the Fifth Brigade received its
+orders and instructions and immediately passed them on and elaborated
+them to the battalions concerned. By five o'clock the three battalions
+that were to make the attack were on their way across the open country,
+advancing in waves. German guns battered them but did not break their
+alignment. They reached our new trenches and, with the barrage of our
+own guns now moving before them, passed through and over the victorious
+survivors of the morning's battle.
+
+The French Canadians and the Nova Scotians went first in two waves.
+
+Dick Starkley and his platoon were on the right of the front line of the
+26th, which was the third wave of attack. "Mopping up" was the
+battalion's particular job on this occasion.
+
+"Mopping up," like most military terms, means considerably more than it
+suggests to the ear. The mops are rifles, bombs and bayonets; the things
+to be mopped are machine-gun posts still in active operation, bays and
+sections of trenches still occupied by aggressive Germans, mined cellars
+and garrisoned dugouts. Everything of a menacing nature that the
+assaulting waves have passed over or outflanked without demolishing must
+be dealt with by the "moppers-up."
+
+The two lines of the 26th advanced at an easy walk; there was about five
+yards between man and man. Each man carried water and rations for
+forty-eight hours and five empty sandbags, over and above his arms and
+kit. The men kept their alignment all the way up to the edge of the
+village. Now and again they closed on the center or extended to right or
+left to fill a gap. Wounded men crawled into shell holes or were picked
+up and carried forward. Dead men lay sprawled beneath their equipment,
+with their rifles and bayonets out thrust toward Courcelette even in
+death. The "walking wounded" continued to go forward, some unconscious
+or unmindful of their injuries and others trying to bandage themselves
+as they walked.
+
+Col. MacKenzie led them, and beside him walked a company commander. The
+two shouted to each other above the din of battle, and sometimes they
+turned and shouted back to their men. Other officers walked a few paces
+in front of their men.
+
+A bursting shell threw Dick backward into a small crater that had been
+made earlier in the day and knocked the breath out of him for a few
+seconds. Frank Sacobie picked him up. The colonel gave the signal to
+double, and the right flank of the 26th broke from a walk into a slow
+and heavy jog. Sacobie jogged beside Dick.
+
+"Just a year since we came into the line!" shouted Dick.
+
+"We were pa'tridge shootin' two years ago to-day!" bawled Sacobie.
+
+The colonel turned with his back to Courcelette and his face to his men
+and yelled at them to come on. "Speed up on the right!" he shouted. "The
+left is ahead. The 25th is in already. Shake a leg, boys. If they don't
+move quick enough in front, blow right through 'em."
+
+At the near edge of the village a number of New Brunswickers, including
+their colonel, overtook and mingled with the second line of the 22d. Our
+barrage was lifted clear of Courcelette by this time and set like a
+spouting wall of fire and earth along the far side of it; but the shells
+of the enemy continued to pitch into it, heaving bricks and rafters and
+the soil of little gardens into the vibrating twilight. Machine guns
+streamed their fire upon the invaders from attics and cellars and
+sand-bagged windows. The bombs and rifles of the 22d smashed and cracked
+just ahead; and on the left, still farther ahead, crashes and bangs and
+shouts told all who could hear the whereabouts of Hilliam and his lads
+from Nova Scotia.
+
+Dick Starkley saw a darting flicker of fire from the butt of a broken
+chimney beyond a cellar full of bricks and splintered timber. He shouted
+to his men, let his pistol swing from its lanyard and threw a bomb.
+Then, stooping low, he dashed at the jumble of ruins in the cellar. He
+saw his bomb burst beside the stump of chimney. The machine gun
+flickered again, and _spat-spat-spat_ came quicker than thought. Other
+bombs smashed in front of him, to right and left of the chimney. He got
+his right foot entangled in what had once been a baby's crib.
+
+There he was, staggering on the very summit of that low mound of
+rubbish, fairly in line with the aim of the machine gun. Something
+seized him by some part of his equipment and jerked him backward. He lit
+on his back and slid a yard, then beheld the face of Hiram Sill staring
+down at him.
+
+"Hit?" asked Hiram.
+
+"Don't think so. No."
+
+"It's a wonder."
+
+Five men from Dick's platoon joined them in the ruins. Together they
+threw seven grenades. The hidden gun ceased fire. Dick scrambled up and
+over the rubbish and around what was left of the shattered chimney that
+masked the machine-gun post. In the dim light he saw sprawled shapes and
+crouching shapes, and one stooped over the machine gun, working swiftly
+to clear it again for action. Dick pistoled the gunner. The three
+survivors of that crew put up their hands. Sergt. Sill disarmed them and
+told them to "beat it" back to the Canadian lines. Fifty yards on they
+found Sacobie and two privates counting prisoners at the mouth of a
+dugout.
+
+"Twenty-nine without a scratch," said Sacobie.
+
+"Find stretchers for them and send them back with our wounded, under
+escort," said Dick. "Put a corporal in charge. Is there a corporal
+here?"
+
+"I'm here, sir."
+
+"You, Judd? Take them back with as many of our wounded as they can
+carry. Two men with you should be escort enough. Hand over the wounded
+and fetch up any grenades and ammunition you can get hold of."
+
+Capt. Smith staggered up to Dick.
+
+"We are through and out the other side!" he gasped. "Get as many of our
+fellows as you can collect quick to stiffen this flank. Dig in beyond
+the houses--in line with the 25th. The colonel is up there somewhere."
+
+He swayed and stumbled against the platoon commander. Dick supported him
+with an arm.
+
+"Hit?" asked Dick.
+
+"Just what you'd notice," said the captain, straightening himself and
+reeling away.
+
+"Go after him and do what you can for him," said Dick to one of his men.
+"Bandage him and then go look for an M. O."
+
+Dick hurried on toward the forward edge of the village, strengthening
+his following as he went. The shelling was still heavy and the noise
+deafening, but the hand-to-hand fighting among the houses had lessened.
+Dick led his men through one wall of a house that had been hit by a
+heavy shell and through the other wall into a little garden. There were
+bricks and tiles and iron shards in that garden; and in the middle of
+it, untouched, a little arbor of grapevines. Dick passed through the
+arbor on his way to the broken wall at the foot of the garden. There
+were two benches in it and a small round table.
+
+Dick went through the arbor in a second, and then he sprang to the
+broken crest of the wall. He had scarcely mounted upon it before
+something red burst close in front of his eyes.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dick was not astonished to find himself in the old garden at Beaver Dam.
+The lilacs were in flower and full of bees and butterflies. He still
+wore his shrapnel helmet. It felt very uncomfortable, and he tried to
+take it off--but it stuck fast to his head. Even that did not astonish
+him. He saw an arbor of grapevines and entered it and sat down on a
+bench with his elbows on a small round table. He recognized it as the
+arbor he had seen that evening in Courcelette--the evening of September
+15.
+
+"I must have brought it home with me," he reflected. "The war must be
+over."
+
+Flora entered the arbor then and asked him why he was wearing an
+officer's jacket. He thought it queer that she had not heard about his
+commission.
+
+"I was promoted on the Somme--no, it was before that," he began, and
+then everything became dark. "I can't see," he said.
+
+"Don't worry about that," replied a voice that was not Flora's. "Your
+eyes are bandaged for the time being. They'll be as well as ever in a
+few days."
+
+"I must have been dreaming. Where am I--and what is wrong with me?"
+
+"You are in No. 2 Canadian General Hospital and have been dreaming for
+almost a week. But you are doing very well."
+
+"What hit me? And have I all my legs and arms?"
+
+"It must have been a whiz-bang," replied the unknown voice. "You are
+suffering from head wounds that are not so serious as we feared and from
+broken ribs and a few cuts and gashes. You must drink this and stop
+talking."
+
+Dick obediently drank it, whatever it was.
+
+"I wish you could give me some news of the battalion, and then I'd keep
+quiet for a long time," he said.
+
+"Do you want me to open and read this letter that your brother left for
+you two days ago?" asked the Sister.
+
+She read as follows:
+
+"Dear Dick. As your temperature is up and you refuse to know me I am
+leaving this note for you with the charming Sister who seems to be your
+C. O. just now. She tells me that you will be as fit as a fiddle in a
+month or so. Accept my congratulations on your escape and on the battle
+of Courcelette. I have written to Beaver Dam about it and cabled that
+you will live to fight again. Frank Sacobie and that psychological
+sergeant with a D. C. M. and bar are booked for Blighty, to polish up
+for their commissions. I called on them after the fight. They are
+well--but I can't say that they escaped without a scratch, for they both
+looked as if they had been mixing it up with a bunch of wildcats.
+Sacobie has a black eye and doesn't know who or what hit him.
+
+"Do you remember Jim Hammond? He came over to a battalion of this
+division with a draft from England about four months ago. He looked me
+up one day last week and told me a mighty queer story about himself. I
+won't try to repeat it, for I am sure he'll tell it to you himself at
+the first opportunity. He is making good, as far as I can see and hear.
+Pat Hammond has a job in London now. He was badly gassed about a month
+ago. I will get another day's special leave as soon as possible and pay
+you another visit.
+
+"Your affectionate brother, Henry Starkley."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IX
+
+                         FRANK SACOBIE OBJECTS
+
+
+WITHIN ten days of the battle of Courcelette, Lieut. Richard Starkley
+was able to see; and twenty days after that he was able to walk. His
+walking at first was an extraordinary thing, and extraordinary was the
+amount of pleasure that he derived from it. With a crutch under one
+shoulder and Sister Gilbert under the other, bandaged and padded from
+hip to neck, and with his battered but entire legs wavering beneath him,
+he crossed the ward that first day without exceeding the speed limit.
+Brother officers in various stages of repair did not refrain from
+expressing their opinions of his performance.
+
+"Try to be back for tea, old son," said a New Zealand major.
+
+"Are those your legs or mine you're fox-trotting with?" asked an English
+subaltern; and an elderly colonel called, "I'll hop out and show you how
+to walk in a minute, if you don't do better than that!"
+
+The colonel laughed, and the inmates of the other beds laughed, and Dick
+and Sister Gilbert laughed, for that, you must know, was a very good
+joke. The humor of the remark lay in the fact that the elderly colonel
+had not a leg to his name.
+
+Day by day Dick improved in pace and gait, and his activities inspired a
+number of his companions to shake an uncertain leg or two. The elderly
+colonel organized contests; and the great free-for-all race twice round
+the ward was one of the notable sporting events of the war.
+
+At last Dick was shipped to Blighty and admitted to a hospital for
+convalescent Canadian officers. There Capt. J. A. Starkley-Davenport
+soon found him. No change that the eye could detect had taken place in
+Jack Davenport. His face was as thin and colorless as when Dick had
+first seen it; his eyes were just as bright, and their glances as kindly
+and intent; his body was as frail and as immaculately garbed. Dick
+wondered how one so frail could exist a week without either breaking
+utterly or gaining in strength.
+
+"You're a wonder, Dick!" exclaimed Davenport.
+
+"It strikes me that you are the wonder," said Dick.
+
+"But they tell me that you stopped a whiz-bang and will be as fit as
+ever, nerve and body, in a little while."
+
+"I stopped bits of it--but I don't think it actually detonated on me.
+All I got was some of the splash. I was lucky!"
+
+"You were indeed," said the other, with a shadow in his eyes. "I was
+lucky, too--though there have been times when I have been fool enough to
+wish that I had been left on the field." Then he straightened his thin
+shoulders and laughed quietly. "But if I had gone west I should have
+missed Frank Sacobie and Hiram Sill. They lunched with me last week and
+have promised to turn up on Sunday. You'll be right for Sunday, Dick,
+and I'll have a pucka party in your honor."
+
+"How are they, and what are they up to?" asked Dick.
+
+"They are at the top of their form, both of them, and up to anything,"
+replied Davenport. "Your Canadian cadet course is the stiffest thing of
+its kind in England, but it doesn't seem to bother those two. Frank is
+smarter than anything the Guards can show and is believed to be a rajah;
+and Hiram writes letters to Washington urging the formation of an
+American division to be attached to the Canadian Corps and suggesting
+his appointment to the command of one of the brigades."
+
+"Those letters must amuse the censors," said Dick with a grin.
+
+"I imagine they do. Washington hasn't answered yet; and so Hiram is
+getting his dander up and is pitching each letter a little higher than
+the one before it. Incidentally, he has a great deal to say to our War
+Office, and his novel suggestions for developing trench warfare seem to
+have awakened a variety of emotions in the brains and livers of a lot of
+worthy _brass hats_."
+
+Dick laughed. "What are his ideas for developing trench warfare?"
+
+"One is the organization of a shot-gun platoon in every battalion. The
+weapon is to be the duck gun, number eight bore, I believe. Hiram
+maintains that, used within a range of one hundred and fifty yards,
+those weapons would be superior to any in repulsing attacks in mass and
+in cleaning up raided trenches. He is a great believer in the deadly and
+demoralizing effects of point-blank fire."
+
+"He is right in that--once you get rid of the parapet."
+
+"He gets rid of the parapet with the point-blank fire of what he calls
+trench cannon--guns, three feet long, mounted so that they can be
+carried along a trench by four men; they are to fire ten- or
+twelve-pound high explosive shells from the front line smack against the
+opposite parapet."
+
+"It sounds right, too; but so many things sound right that work all
+wrong. What are his other schemes?"
+
+"One has to do with a thundering big six-hooked grapnel, with a wire
+cable attached, that is to be shot into the hostile lines from a big
+trench mortar and then winched back by steam. He expects his
+grapnel--give him power enough--to tear out trenches, machine-gun posts
+and battalion headquarters, and bring home all sorts of odds and ends of
+value for identification purposes. Can't you see the brigadier stepping
+out before brekker to take a look at the night's haul?"
+
+"My hat! What did the War Office think of that?"
+
+"An acting assistant something or other of the name of Smythers and the
+rank of major was inspired by it to ask Hiram whether he had ever served
+in France. Hiram put over a twenty-page narrative of his exploits with
+the battalion, with appendixes of maps and notes and extracts from
+brigade and battalion orders, and, so far as I know, the major has not
+yet recovered sufficiently to retaliate."
+
+"Well, I hope Frank Sacobie has left the War Office alone."
+
+"Frank writes nothing and says very little more than that. He seems to
+give all his attention to his kit; but I have a suspicion that he is a
+deep thinker. However that may be, his taste in dress is astonishingly
+good, and his deportment in society is in as good taste as his
+breeches."
+
+"So he has a good time?"
+
+"He is very gay when he comes up to town," answered Davenport.
+
+"He deserves a good time, but he can't get it and at the same time doll
+himself up, even in uniform, on his pay. How does he do it?"
+
+"You have guessed it, Dick."
+
+"I think I have."
+
+"Then there is no need of my saying much about it. I live on one sixth
+of my income. That leaves five sixths for my friends; and often, Dick,
+it is the thought of the spending of the five parts that gives me
+courage to go on keeping life in this useless body with the one part.
+Sometimes a soldier's wife buys food for herself and children, or pays
+the rent, with my money; and the lion's share of the pleasure of that
+transaction is mine. Sometimes a chap on leave spends a fistful of my
+treasury notes on dinners for himself and his girl; and those dinners
+give me more pleasure than the ones I eat myself. I haven't much of a
+stomach of my own now, you know; and I haven't a girl of my own to take
+out to one--even if Wilson would let me go out at night. It is not
+charity. I satisfy my own lost hunger for food through the medium of
+poor people with good appetites: I have my fun and cut a dash in new
+breeches and swagger service jackets through the medium of hard fighting
+fellows from France. I am not apologizing, you understand."
+
+"You needn't," said Dick dryly; and then they both laughed.
+
+Hiram Sill and Frank Sacobie called on Dick at the hospital soon after
+ten o'clock on Sunday morning. They had come up to town the evening
+before. The greetings of the three friends were warm. Sacobie's pleasure
+at the reunion found no voice, but shone in his eyes and thrilled in the
+grip of his hand. Hiram Sill added words to the message of his beaming
+face. He expressed delighted amazement at Dick's appearance.
+
+"I couldn't quite believe it until now," he said. "Neither could you if
+you had seen yourself as we saw you when you were picked up. Nothing the
+matter with your face, except a dimple or two that you weren't born
+with. All your legs and arms still your own. I'd sooner see this than a
+letter from Washington. With your luck you'll live to command the
+battalion."
+
+Dick grinned. His greetings to his friends had been as boyishly
+impulsive and cheery as ever; yet there was something looking out
+through the affection in his eyes that would have puzzled his people in
+New Brunswick if they had seen it. There was a question in the look and
+a hint of anxiety and perhaps the faintest shade of the airs of a fond
+father, a sympathetic judge and a hopeful appraiser. Frank and Hiram
+recognized and accepted it without thought or question. The look was
+nothing more than the shadow of the habit of responsibility and command.
+
+Hiram talked about Washington and the War Office, and discussed his
+grapnel idea with considerable heat. Frank Sacobie took no part in that
+discussion and little in the general conversation. Soon after twelve
+o'clock all three set out in a taxicab for Jack Davenport's house.
+
+The luncheon was successful. The other guests were three women--a cousin
+of Jack's on the Davenport side and her two daughters. The host and
+Hiram Sill both conversed brilliantly. Frank was inspired to make at
+least five separate remarks of some half dozen words each. Dick soon let
+the drift of the general conversation escape him, so interested did he
+become in the girl on his right.
+
+Kathleen Kingston seemed to him a strange mixture of shyness and
+self-possession, of calmness and vivacity. The coloring of her small
+face was wonderfully mobile--so Dick expressed it to himself--and yet
+her eyes were frank, steady and unembarrassed. Her voice was curiously
+low and clear.
+
+Dick was conscious of feeling a vague and unsteady wonder at himself.
+Why this sudden interest in a girl? He had never felt anything of the
+kind before. Had this something to do with the wounds in his head? He
+could not entertain that suggestion seriously. However that might be, he
+felt that his sudden interest in this young person whom he had not so
+much as heard of an hour ago greatly increased his interest in many
+things. He was conscious of a sure friendship for her, as if he had
+known her for years. He knew that this friendship was a more important
+thing to him than his friendships with Hiram Sill and Frank Sacobie--and
+yet those friendships had grown day by day, strengthened week by week
+and stood the test of suffering and peril.
+
+She told him that her father was still in France, but safe now at
+General Headquarters, that her eldest brother had been killed in action
+in 1914, that another was fighting in the East, and that still another
+was a midshipman on the North Sea. Also, she told him that she wanted to
+go to France as a V. A. D., that she had left school six months ago and
+was working five hours every day making bandages and splints, and that
+she was seventeen years old. Those confidences melted Dick's tongue. He
+told her his own age and that he had added a little to it at the time of
+enlisting; he spoke of night and daylight raids and major offensive
+operations in which he had taken part, of the military careers of Henry
+and Peter and of life at Beaver Dam. She seemed to be as keenly
+interested in his confidences as he had been in hers. In the library,
+where coffee was served, Dick continued to cling to his new friend.
+
+The party came to an end at last, leaving Dick in a somewhat scattered
+state of mind. Before leaving with her daughters, Mrs. Kingston gave her
+address and a cordial invitation to make use of it to each of the three.
+Before long Wilson took Jack off to bed. Then Hiram left to keep an
+appointment at the Royal Automobile Club with a captain who knew some
+one at the War Office. That left Frank and Dick with Jack Davenport's
+library to themselves. One place was much the same as another to Dick
+just then. He was again wondering if he could possibly be suffering in
+some subtle and painless way from the wounds in his head. With enquiring
+fingers he felt the spotless bandage that still adorned the top of his
+head.
+
+Sacobie got out of his chair suddenly, with an abruptness of movement
+that was foreign to him, and walked the length of the room and back. He
+halted before Dick and stared down at him keenly for several seconds
+without attracting that battered youth's attention. So he fell again to
+pacing the room, walking lightly and with straight feet, the true Indian
+walk. At last he halted again in front of Dick's chair.
+
+"I am not going back to the battalion," he said.
+
+Dick sat up with a jerk and stared at him.
+
+"I am not going back," repeated Sacobie. "I shall get my commission,
+that is sure; but I shall not be an officer in the battalion."
+
+"Why the mischief not?" exclaimed Dick. "What's the matter with the
+battalion, I'd like to know?"
+
+"Nothing," replied the other. He moved away a few paces, then turned
+back again. "A good battalion. I was a good sergeant there. But I met
+Capt. Dodds, on leave, one day, and we had lunch together at Scott's;
+and he feel pretty good--he felt pretty good--and he talked a lot. He
+told me how some officers and other ranks say the colonel didn't do
+right when he put in my name for cadet course and a commission. You know
+why, Dick. So I don't go back to the infantry with my two stars."
+
+"Do you mean because you are an Indian? That is rot!"
+
+"No, it is good sense. You think about it hard as I have thought about
+it day and night. They don't say I don't know my job. The captain told
+me the colonel was right and everybody knew it when he said I should
+make the best scout officer in the brigade; and the men like me, you
+know that; but the men don't want an Injun for an officer. They are
+white men. I am a Malecite--red. That is right. I don't go back with my
+officer stars."
+
+"Do you mean that you won't take your commission?" asked Dick.
+
+"No. I take it, sure. But not in the 26th."
+
+Dick did not argue. He had never considered his friend's case in that
+light before, but now he knew that Sacobie was right. The
+noncommissioned officers and men would not question Frank's military
+qualifications, his ability or his personal merits. His race was the
+only thing about him to which they objected--and that appeared
+objectionable in him only when they considered him as an officer. As a
+"non-com" he was one of themselves, but as an officer they must consider
+him impersonally as a superior. There was where the New Brunswick
+soldiers would cease to consider their friend and comrade Frank Sacobie
+and see only a member of an inferior race. Their point of view would
+immediately revert to that of the old days before the war, when they
+would have laughed at a Malecite's undertaking to perform any task
+except paddling a canoe.
+
+"Will you transfer to another battalion?" asked Dick, as a result of his
+reflections.
+
+Frank shook his head but made no reply.
+
+"Then to an English battalion?" Dick persisted. "There are dozens that
+would be glad to have you, Frank. A Canadian with your record would not
+have to look far for a job in this war. Jack Davenport's old regiment
+would snap you up quick as a wink, commission and all, I bet a dollar."
+
+The other smiled gravely. "That is right," he said. "Capt. Davenport is
+my friend and knows what I am; but most English people want me to be
+some kind of prince from India. I am myself--a Canadian soldier. I don't
+want to play the monkey. Two-Blanket Sacobie was a big chief, with his
+salmon spear and sometimes nothing to eat. His squaw chopped the wood
+and carried the water. I am not a prince, nor I'm not a monkey. I come
+to the war, and the English people call me rajah; but the Englishman
+come to our country and hire me for a guide in the woods and call me a
+nigger. No, I am myself with what good I have in me. I can do to fight
+the Germans, and that is all I want, Dick. I try to be a gentleman, like
+Peter and Capt. Davenport, and the King will make me an officer. That is
+good. I will join the Royal Flying Corps. Then they will name me for
+what I am by what I do."
+
+Dick gripped Frank's right hand in a hearty clasp of respect and
+admiration.
+
+"You're a brick!" he said. "Jack was right when he said you were a deep
+thinker."
+
+"I got to think deep--deeper than you," said Frank. "I got to think all
+for myself, because my fathers didn't think at all."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X
+
+                        DICK OBLIGES HIS FRIEND
+
+
+BOTH Hiram Sill and Frank Sacobie completed the cadet course and passed
+the final examinations. After one last fling at Washington and one more
+astounding suggestion to the War Office, Mr. Sill went back to France
+and his battalion and took command of a platoon. Mr. Sacobie
+transferred, with his new rank, to the Royal Flying Corps and
+immediately began another course of instruction. His brother officers
+decided that he was of a family of Italian origin. He did not bother his
+head about what they thought and applied himself with fervor to
+mastering the science of flying.
+
+Dick recovered his strength steadily. He saw Davenport frequently and
+the Kingstons still more frequently. His friendship with the
+Kingstons--particularly with Kathleen--deepened without a check. No two
+days ever went by consecutively without his seeing one or another of
+that family--usually one.
+
+On a certain Tuesday morning near the end of November he left the
+hospital at ten o'clock in high spirits. He had that morning discarded
+his last crutch and now moved along with the help of two big sticks. The
+dressing on his head was reduced to one thin strip of linen bound
+smoothly round just above the line of his eyebrows. It showed beneath
+his cap and gave him somewhat the air of a cheerful brigand. Though his
+left foot came into contact with the pavement very gingerly, he twirled
+one of the heavy sticks airily every now and again.
+
+Dick found Jack Davenport in the library. A woman and two little girls
+were leaving the library as he entered. The woman was poorly dressed,
+and her eyelids were red from recent tears--but now a look of relief,
+almost of joy, shone in her eyes. She turned on the threshold.
+
+"Bill will have more heart now, sir, for the fighting of his troubles
+and miseries over there," she said. "If I were to stand and talk an
+hour, sir, I couldn't tell you what's in my heart--but I say again, God
+bless you for your great kindness!"
+
+She turned again then and passed Dick, and the butler opened the big
+door and bowed her out of the house with an air of cheery good will.
+
+Capt. Starkley-Davenport sat with his crutch and stick leaning against
+the table. On the cloth within easy reach his check book lay open before
+him. He was dressed with his usual completeness of detail and studied
+simplicity.
+
+"Have you been boarded yet?" asked Jack.
+
+"To-morrow," replied Dick. "All the M. O.'s are friends of mine, so I
+expect to wangle back to my battalion in two weeks."
+
+Jack smiled and shook his head. "Your best friend in the world--or the
+maddest doctor in the army--wouldn't send you back to France on one leg,
+old son. Six weeks is nearer the mark."
+
+"I can make it in two. You watch me."
+
+"And is it still your old battalion, Dick? I have refrained from
+worrying you about it this time, because you deserved a rest--but I'm
+keener than ever to see you in my old outfit; and your third pip is
+there for you to put up on the very day of your transfer."
+
+"I've been thinking about it, Jack--and of course I'd like to do it
+because you want me to. But the colonel wouldn't understand. No one who
+does not know you would understand. People would think I'd done it for
+the step, or that I hadn't hit it off, as an officer, with the old
+crowd. I want to stay, and yet I want to go. I want to fight on, as far
+as my luck will take me, with the 26th, and yet I'd be proud as a
+brigadier to sport three pips with your lot. As for doing something that
+you want me to do--why, to be quite frank with you, there isn't another
+man in the world I'd sooner please than you. Give me a few months more
+in which to decide. Give me until my next leave from France."
+
+Dick had become embarrassed toward the end of his speech, and now he
+looked at Davenport with a red face. The other returned the glance with
+a flush on his thin cheeks.
+
+"Bless you, Dick," he said and looked away. "Your next leave from
+France," he continued. "Six or seven months from now, with luck. They
+don't give me much more than that." Dick stared at his friend.
+
+"I had to send for an M. O. early this morning," Jack went on in a level
+voice. "Wilson did it; he heard me fussing about. By seven o'clock there
+were three of the wisest looking me over--all three familiar with my
+case ever since I got out of hospital. They can't do anything, for
+everything that could be removed--German metal--was dug out long ago. A
+few odds and ends remain, here and there--and one or another of those is
+bound to get me within ten or twelve months. So it will read in the
+_Times_ as 'Died of wounds,' after all."
+
+Dick's face turned white. "Are you joking?" he asked.
+
+"Not I, old son," said the captain, smiling. "I have a sense of
+humor--but it doesn't run quite to that."
+
+"And here you are all dolled up in white spats! Jack, you have a giant's
+heart! And worrying about me and your regiment! Jack, I'll do it! I'll
+transfer. I'll put in my application to-day."
+
+"No. I like your suggestion better. Wait till your next leave from
+France. I have taken a fancy to that idea. You'll come home in six or
+seven months, and you'll ask me to let you put off your decision until
+you return again. Of course I shall have to say yes--and, since I am
+determined to see the Essex badges on you, I'll wait another six or
+seven months. I am stubborn. Between your indecision and my
+stubbornness, the chances are that I'll fool the doctors. That would be
+a joke, if you like!"
+
+Dick hobbled round the table and grasped Jack's hand.
+
+"Done!" he exclaimed. "I am with you, Jack. We'll play that game for all
+it is worth. But you didn't seriously believe what the doctors said, did
+you?"
+
+"Yes, until five minutes ago."
+
+"Two years ago they said you would be right as wheat in six months; and
+now they say you will be dead in a year. If they think they're
+prophets--they are clean off their job. Would they bet money on it? I
+don't think! One year! Fifty years would have sounded almost as knowing
+and a good sight more likely."
+
+Dick stayed to luncheon, and he remained at the table after Wilson had
+taken Jack away to lie down. Wilson came back within fifteen minutes and
+found the Canadian subaltern where he had left him.
+
+"Sir, I am anxious about Capt. Jack," he said.
+
+"Why do you say that?" asked Dick.
+
+"Sir Peter Bayle and two other medical gentlemen of the highest standing
+warned him this very morning, sir, that he was only one year more for
+this world; and now he is singing, sir,--a thing he has not done in
+months,--and a song which runs, sir, with your permission, 'All the boys
+and girls I chance to meet say, Who's that coming down the street? Why,
+it's Milly; she's a daisy'--and so on, sir. I fear his wounds have
+affected his mind, sir."
+
+"Wilson, I know that song and approve of it," said Dick. "If Sir Peter
+Bayle told you, in November, 1916, that you were to die in November,
+1917, of wounds received in 1914, should you worry? Nix to that! You
+would seriously suspect that Sir Peter had his diagnosis of your case
+mixed up in his high-priced noddle with Buchan's History of the War; and
+if you are the man I think you are, you, too, would sing."
+
+"I thank you, Mr. Richard. You fill my heart with courage, sir," said
+Wilson.
+
+Dick reached the Kingston house at four o'clock and was shown as usual
+into the drawing-room. The ladies were not there, but an officer whom
+Dick had never seen before stood on the hearthrug with his back to the
+fire. He wore the crown and star of a lieutenant colonel on his
+shoulders, a wound stripe on his left sleeve, the red tabs of the
+general staff on his collar, on his right breast the blue ribbon of the
+Royal Humane Society's medal and on his left breast the ribbons of the
+D. S. O., of the Queen's and the King's South African medals, of several
+Indian medals and of the Legion of Honor. His figure was slight and of
+little more than the medium height. A monocle without a cord shone in
+his right eye, and his air was amiable and alert. Dick halted on his two
+sticks and said, "I beg your pardon, sir."
+
+The other flashed a smile, advanced quickly and in two motions put Dick
+into a deep chair and took possession of the sticks. Then he shook the
+visitor's hand heartily.
+
+"Glad to see you," he said. "There is no mistaking you. You are
+Kathleen's Canadian subaltern. I am Kathleen's father."
+
+Dick knew that there were plenty of suitable things to say in reply, but
+for the life of him he could not think of one of them. So he said
+nothing, but returned the colonel's smile.
+
+"Don't be bashful, Dick," continued the other. "I was a boy myself not
+so long ago as you think--but I hadn't seen a shot fired in anger when I
+was your age. It's amazing. I wonder what weight of metal has gone over
+your head, not to mention what has hit you and fallen short. Tons and
+tons, I suppose. It's an astounding war, to my mind. Don't you find it
+so?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Dick.
+
+"And you are right," continued the other. "I wish I were your age, so as
+to see it more clearly. Stupendous!"
+
+At that moment Mrs. Kingston and the two girls entered. It had been
+Dick's and Kathleen's intention to go out to tea; but the colonel upset
+that plan by saying that he was very anxious to hear Dick talk. So they
+remained at home for tea--and the colonel did all the talking. Dick
+agreed with everything he said about the war, however, and then he said
+that Dick was right--so it really made no difference after all which of
+them actually said the things.
+
+During the ten days of the colonel's leave he and Dick became firm
+friends. They knocked about town together every morning, often lunched
+with Jack Davenport and every afternoon and evening took Mrs. Kingston
+and the girls out. Dick dined at home with the family on the colonel's
+last night of leave. After dinner, when the others left the table, the
+colonel detained Dick with a wink.
+
+"I won't keep you from Kathleen ten minutes, my boy," he said. "I want
+to tell you, in case I don't see you again for a long time,--meetings
+between soldiers are uncertain things, Dick,--that this little affair
+between you and my daughter has done me good to see. You are both
+babies, so don't take it too seriously. Take it happily. Whatever may
+happen in the future, you two children will have something very
+beautiful and romantic and innocent to look back at in this war. Though
+you should live to be ninety and marry a girl from Assiniboia, yet you
+will always remember this old town with pleasure. If, on the other hand,
+you should continue in your present vein--that is, continue to feel like
+this after you grow up--that it is absolutely necessary to your
+happiness to have tea with my daughter every day--well, good luck to
+you! I can't say more than that, my boy. But in the meantime, be happy."
+
+Then he shook Dick vigorously by the hand, patted his shoulder and
+pushed him out of the room.
+
+Dick handled the medical officers so ably that he and his transportation
+were ready for France on New Year's Day. The Kingstons saw him off. He
+found a seat in a first-class compartment and deposited his haversack in
+it. Then the four stood on the platform and tried in vain to think of
+something to say. Even Mrs. Kingston was silent. Officers of all ranks
+of every branch of the service, with their friends and relatives,
+crowded the long platform. Late arrivals bundled in and out of the
+carriages, looking for unclaimed seats. Guards looked at their big
+silver watches and requested the gentlemen to take their seats. Then
+Mrs. Kingston kissed Dick; then Mary kissed him; and then, lifted to a
+state of recklessness, he kissed Kathleen on her trembling lips. He saw
+tears quivering in her eyes.
+
+"When I come back--next leave--will it be the same?" he asked.
+
+She bowed her head, and the tears spilled over and glistened on her
+cheeks. Standing in the doorway of the compartment, Dick saluted, then
+turned, trod on the toes of a sapper major, moved heavily from there to
+the spurred boots of an artillery colonel and sat down violently and
+blindly on his lumpy haversack. The five other occupants of the
+compartment glanced from Dick to the group on the platform.
+
+      [Illustration: "STANDING IN THE DOORWAY OF THE COMPARTMENT,
+                            DICK SALUTED."]
+
+"We all know it's a rotten war, old son," said the gunner colonel and,
+stooping, rubbed the toes of his outraged boots with his gloves.
+
+Dick found many old faces replaced by new in the battalion. Enemy
+snipers, shell fire, sickness and promotion had been at work. Dick acted
+as assistant adjutant for a couple of weeks and was then posted to a
+company as second in command and promised his step in rank at the
+earliest opportunity. In the same company was Lieut. Hiram Sill's
+platoon. Hiram, busy as ever, had distinguished himself several times
+since his return and was in a fair way to be recommended for a Military
+Cross.
+
+The commander of the company was a middle-aged, amiable person who had
+been worked so hard during the past year that he had nothing left to
+carry on with except courage. At sight of Dick he rejoiced, for Dick had
+a big reputation. He took off his boots and belt, retired to his
+blankets and told his batman to wake him when the war was over. The
+relief was too much for him; it had come too late. The more he rested
+the worse he felt, and at last the medical officer sent him out on a
+stretcher. Fever and a general breakdown held him at the base for
+several weeks, and then he was shipped to Blighty. So Dick got a company
+and his third star, and no one begrudged him the one or the other.
+
+The Canadian Corps worked all winter in preparation for its great spring
+task. The Germans fortified and intrenched and mightily garrisoned along
+all the great ridge of Vimy, harassed the preparing legions with shells
+and bombs and looked contemptuously out and down upon us from their
+strong vantage points. Others had failed to wrest Vimy from them. But
+night and day the Canadians went on with their preparations.
+
+Word that the United States of America had declared war on Germany
+reached the toilers before Vimy on April 7; and within the week there
+came a night of gunfire that rocked the earth and tore the air. With
+morning the gunfire ceased, only to break forth again in lesser volume
+as the jumping barrages were laid along the ridge; and then, in a storm
+of wind and snow, the battalions went over on a five-division front,
+company after company, wave after wave, riflemen, bombers and Lewis
+gunners. The Canadians were striking after their winter of drudgery.
+
+One of our men, a Yankee by birth, went over that morning with a
+miniature Stars and Stripes tied to his bayonet. We cleared out the Huns
+and took the ridge; and for days the water that filled the shell holes
+and mine craters over that ground was red with Canadian blood, and the
+plank roads were slippery with it from the passing of our wounded.
+
+Dick went through that fight in front of his company and came out of it
+speechless with exhaustion, but unhit. Hiram Sill survived it with his
+arm in a sling. Maj. Henry Starkley was wounded again, again not
+seriously. Maj. Patrick Hammond was killed, and Corp. Jim Hammond was
+carried back the next day with a torn scalp and a crushed knee.
+
+On the tenth day after that battle Lieut. Hiram Sill and his company
+commander were the recipients of extraordinary news. Mr. Sill was
+requested to visit the colonel without loss of time. He turned up within
+the minute and saluted with his left hand.
+
+"You are wanted back in the U. S. A., Hiram, for instructional
+purposes," said the colonel, looking over a mess of papers at his elbow.
+"You don't have to go if you don't want to. Here it is--and to be made
+out in triplicate, of course."
+
+Hiram examined the papers.
+
+"And here is something else that will interest you," continued the
+colonel. "News for you and Dick Starkley. You have your M. C."
+
+Hiram's eyes shone.
+
+"And Dick seems to have hooked the same for his work on the Somme--and I
+had given up all hope of that coming through. I recommended him for a D.
+S. O. last week. The way these recommendations for awards are handled
+beats me. They put them all into a hat and then chuck the hat out of the
+window, I guess, and whatever recommendations are picked up in the
+street and returned through the post are approved and acted upon. I know
+a chap--come back here!"
+
+Hiram turned at the door of the hut.
+
+"Do you intend to accept that job?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You have a choice between going over to the American army with your
+rank or simply being seconded from the Canadians for that duty. What do
+you mean to do?"
+
+"Seconded, sir. I am an American citizen clear through, colonel, but I
+have worn this cut of uniform too long to change it in this war."
+
+Hiram found Dick in his billet, reading a letter. Dick received the news
+of the awards and of Hiram's appointment very quietly.
+
+"Jack Davenport has gone west," he said.
+
+Hiram sat down and stared at Dick without a word.
+
+"This letter is from Kathleen," continued Dick. "She says Jack went out
+on Monday to visit some of the people he helps. He had taken on six more
+widows and seven more babies since the Vimy show. On his way home toward
+evening he and Wilson were outside the Blackfriars underground station,
+looking for a taxi, when a lorry took a skid fair at an old woman and
+little boy who were just making the curb. Wilson swears that Jack jumped
+from the curb as if there were nothing wrong with him, landed fair in
+front of the lorry, knocked the old woman and kid out from under, but
+fell before he could get clear himself."
+
+"Killed?"
+
+"Instantly."
+
+Hiram gazed down at his muddy boots, and Dick continued to regard the
+letter in his hand.
+
+"Can you beat it?" said Hiram at last.
+
+Dick got up and paced about the little room, busy with his thoughts.
+Finally he spoke.
+
+"Sacobie is flying, and you are booked for the States, and I am going to
+transfer to Jack's old lot," he said slowly.
+
+Hiram looked up at him, but did not speak.
+
+"Jack wanted me to," continued Dick. "Well, why not? It's the same old
+army and the same old war. A fellow should make an effort to oblige a
+man like Jack--dead or alive." He was silent for several seconds, then
+went on: "Henry has been offered a staff job in London. Peter is safe.
+Sacobie has brought down four Boche machines already. What have you
+heard about Jim Hammond?"
+
+"It's Blighty for him--and then Canada. He'll never in the world bend
+that leg again."
+
+For a while Dick continued to pace back and forth across the muddy floor
+in silence.
+
+"We are scattering, Old Psychology," he said. "This war is a great
+scatterer--but there are some things it can't touch. You'll be homesick
+at your new job, Hiram,--and I'll be homesick with the Essex bunch, I
+suppose,--but there are some things that make it all seem worth the
+rotten misery of it." He glanced down at Kathleen's letter, then put it
+into his pocket. "Jack Davenport, for one," he ended.
+
+"A soldier and a gentlemen," said Hiram.
+
+                                THE END
+
+
+
+
+                           Transcriber Notes:
+
+Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
+
+Passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=.
+
+Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
+
+Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
+
+The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
+paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus
+the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in
+the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the
+same in the List of Illustrations and in the book.
+
+Errors in punctuation and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.
+
+On page 142, "comissions" was replaced with "commissions".
+
+On page 243, "harrassed" was replaced with "harassed".
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fighting Starkleys, by 
+Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 44185-8.txt or 44185-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/8/44185/
+
+Produced by Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/old/44185-8.zip b/old/44185-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b3ef97f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-8.zip
diff --git a/old/44185-h.zip b/old/44185-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3006283
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h.zip
diff --git a/old/44185-h/44185-h.htm b/old/44185-h/44185-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b92d9eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h/44185-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,6656 @@
+
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fighting Starkleys, by Captain Theodore Goodridge Roberts.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+ }
+
+h1 {
+    margin-top: 7%;
+    text-indent: 0%;
+    text-align: center;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+h2 {
+    margin-top: 4%;
+    text-indent: 0%;
+    text-align: center;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+/* paragraphs */
+
+p {
+    margin-top: 3%;
+    margin-bottom: 3%;
+    text-align: justify;
+} /* general paragraph */
+
+p.h1 {
+    margin-top: 7%;
+    text-indent: 0%;
+    text-align: center;
+    font-size: 300%;
+    font-weight: bold;
+}
+
+p.cnobmargin {
+    text-align: center;
+    margin-bottom: .0%;
+} /* centered no bottom margin */
+
+p.cnomargins {
+    text-align: center;
+    margin-bottom: .0%;
+    margin-top: .0%;
+} /* centered no bottom or top margin */
+
+p.cnotmargin {
+    text-align: center;
+    margin-top: .0%;
+} /* centered no top margin */
+
+p.indent {
+    text-indent: 4%;
+} /* indented paragraph */
+
+.space-above
+{
+  margin-top: 3em;
+}
+
+/* horizontal rules */
+
+hr {
+    width: 33%;
+    margin-top: 8%;
+    margin-bottom: 8%;
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+.hr2
+{
+    width: 90%;
+    max-width: 90%;
+    color: #CCCCCC;
+    background-color: #FFFFFF;
+    border: none;
+    border-bottom: 6px double black;
+    margin: 8% auto;
+} /* horizontal rule for chapter divisions */
+
+.pagenum {
+    position: absolute;
+    left: 92%;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    text-align: right;
+}
+
+/* Formatting */
+
+.bbox     {border: solid 2px;
+           margin-left: 20%;
+           margin-right: 20%;
+           padding: 6px;
+}
+
+.center {
+    text-indent: 0%;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+
+.right {text-align: right;}
+
+.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+.caption {font-weight: bold;}
+
+.small {font-size: small;}
+
+.large {font-size: large;}
+
+/* Links attributes */
+
+a:link              { color:#000000; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 1px dashed #808080;}
+
+a:visited           { color:#25383C; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 1px dashed #808080;}
+
+a:hover             { color:#008000; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 1px dashed #808080;}
+
+a:active            { color:#000000; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 1px dashed #808080;}
+
+ins {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 1px dashed #dcdcdc;}
+
+/* Images */
+
+img {
+    padding: 6px;
+} /* without border */
+
+img.border{
+    border: 1px solid black;
+    padding: 6px;
+} /* with border */
+
+.image-center
+{
+  text-align: center;
+  margin: 1em auto;
+}
+
+/* Other */
+
+span.ralign {
+    position: absolute;
+    right: 10%;
+    top: auto;
+}
+
+div.tnote {
+    background-color: #CCCCFF;
+    border-style: dotted;
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+    padding: 1%;
+    font-style: normal;
+    font-size: 90%;
+    text-align: justify;
+}
+
+    </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Fighting Starkleys, by Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Fighting Starkleys
+       or, The test of courage
+
+Author: Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+Illustrator: George Varian
+
+Release Date: November 15, 2013 [EBook #44185]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="image-center">
+<img class="border" src="images/iCover.jpg" width="459" height="700" alt="cover" title="cover"/>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<h1>THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS</h1>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<div class="bbox">
+<p class="center"><i>STORIES BY</i></p>
+
+<p class="cnobmargin"><i>Captain</i></p>
+<p class="cnotmargin"><i>Theodore Goodridge Roberts</i></p>
+
+<p class="cnobmargin"><i>Comrades of the Trails</i>      <i>$1.50</i></p>
+<p class="cnomargins"><i>The Red Feathers</i>             <i>1.65</i></p>
+<p class="cnomargins"><i>Flying Plover</i>                <i>1.35</i></p>
+<p class="cnotmargin"><i>The Fighting Starkleys</i>       <i>1.65</i></p>
+
+<p class="cnobmargin"><i>THE PAGE COMPANY</i></p>
+<p class="cnotmargin"><i>53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 507px;">
+<a name="i004" id="i004"></a>
+<img class="border" src="images/i004.jpg" width="507" height="700" alt="" />
+<div class="caption">
+<p class="center">&quot;HE SAW HIS BOMB BURST BESIDE THE STUMP OF
+CHIMNEY.&quot; (<i>See page 194</i>)</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="cnobmargin large"><i>The</i> FIGHTING</p>
+<p class="cnotmargin large">STARKLEYS</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Or, THE TEST OF COURAGE</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="cnobmargin">BY</p>
+<p class="cnomargins large"><span class="smcap">Captain</span> THEODORE GOODRIDGE ROBERTS</p>
+<p class="cnomargins small">Author of</p>
+<p class="cnotmargin small">&quot;Comrades of the Trails,&quot; &quot;Red Feathers,&quot; &quot;Flying Plover,&quot; etc.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="cnobmargin small">ILLUSTRATED BY</p>
+<p class="cnotmargin small">GEORGE VARIAN</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="image-center">
+<a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a>
+<img class="border" src="images/i005.jpg" width="307" height="306" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="cnobmargin">BOSTON</p>
+<p class="cnomargins">THE PAGE COMPANY</p>
+<p class="cnotmargin">MDCCCCXXII</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="cnobmargin"><i>Copyright, 1920</i>,</p>
+<p class="cnomargins"><span class="smcap">By Perry Mason Company</span></p>
+<p class="cnomargins">&mdash;</p>
+<p class="cnomargins"><i>Copyright, 1922</i>,</p>
+<p class="cnomargins"><span class="smcap">By The Page Company</span></p>
+<p class="cnomargins">&mdash;</p>
+<p class="cnotmargin"><i>All rights reserved</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">Made in U.S.A.</p>
+
+<p class="center">First Impression, April, 1922</p>
+
+<p class="cnobmargin">PRINTED BY C. H. SIMONDS COMPANY</p>
+<p class="cnotmargin">BOSTON, MASS., U.S.A.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<p>CHAPTER <span class="ralign">PAGE</span></p>
+
+<p>I. <span class="smcap">The Call Comes to Beaver Dam</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chI">1</a></span></p>
+
+<p>II. <span class="smcap">Jim Hammond Does not Return to Duty</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chII">29</a></span></p>
+
+<p>III. <span class="smcap">The Veterans of Other Days</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chIII">56</a></span></p>
+
+<p>IV. <span class="smcap">Private Sill Acts</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chIV">80</a></span></p>
+
+<p>V. <span class="smcap">Peter&#39;s Room Is Again Occupied</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chV">109</a></span></p>
+
+<p>VI. <span class="smcap">Dave Hammer Gets His Commission</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chVI">131</a></span></p>
+
+<p>VII. <span class="smcap">Peter Writes a Letter</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chVII">155</a></span></p>
+
+<p>VIII. <span class="smcap">The 26th &quot;Mops Up&quot;</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chVIII">178</a></span></p>
+
+<p>IX. <span class="smcap">Frank Sacobie Objects</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chIX">203</a></span></p>
+
+<p>X. <span class="smcap">Dick Obliges His Friend</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#chX">225</a></span></p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+<p class="right">PAGE</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;<span class="smcap">He saw his bomb burst beside the stump of chimney</span>&quot; (<i>See page 194</i>) <span class="ralign"><a href="#i004"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></span></p>
+
+<p>&quot;<span class="smcap">&#39;I can&#39;t make you out,&#39; said the sergeant</span>&quot; <span class="ralign"><a href="#i035">23</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&quot;<span class="smcap">&#39;I&#39;m hit, boys!&#39; he said</span>&quot; <span class="ralign"><a href="#i065">50</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&quot;<span class="smcap">&#39;Here&#39;s one of them, sir; and there&#39;s more coming,&#39; said the man of mud</span>&quot; <span class="ralign"><a href="#i167">150</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&quot;<span class="smcap">Standing in the doorway of the compartment, Dick saluted</span>&quot; <span class="ralign"><a href="#i259">240</a></span></p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page1" id="page1"></a>[pg&nbsp;1]</span></p>
+
+<p class="h1">The Fighting Starkleys</p>
+
+<h2><a name="chI" id="chI"></a>CHAPTER I<br />
+<small>THE CALL COMES TO BEAVER DAM</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">BEAVER DAM was a farm; but
+long before the day of John Starkley
+and his wife, Constance Emma,
+who lived there with their five children, the
+name had been applied to and accepted by
+a whole settlement of farms, a gristmill, a
+meetinghouse, a school and a general store.
+John Starkley was a farmer, with no other
+source of income than his wide fields.
+Considering those facts, it is not to be
+wondered at that his three boys and two
+girls had been bred to an active, early-rising,
+robust way of life from their early
+childhood.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The original human habitation of Beaver
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page2" id="page2"></a>[pg&nbsp;2]</span>
+Dam had been built of pine logs by John&#39;s
+grandfather, one Maj. Richard Starkley,
+and his friend and henchman, Two-Blanket
+Sacobie, a Malecite sportsman from the big
+river. The present house had been built
+only a few years before the major&#39;s death,
+by his sons, Peter and Richard, and a son
+of old Two-Blanket, of hand-hewn timbers,
+whipsawn boards and planks and hand-split
+shingles. But the older house still
+stands solid and true and weather-tight on
+its original ground; its lower floor is a tool
+house and general lumber room and its upper
+floor a granary.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Soon after the completion of the new
+house the major&#39;s son Richard left Beaver
+Dam for the town of St. John, where he
+found employment with a firm of merchants
+trading to London, Spain and the
+West Indies. He was sent to Jamaica; and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" id="page3"></a>[pg&nbsp;3]</span>
+from that tropic isle he sent home, at one
+time and another, cases of guava jelly and
+&quot;hot stuff,&quot; a sawfish&#39;s saw and half a dozen
+letters. From Jamaica he was promoted
+to London; and as the years passed, his
+letters became less and less frequent until
+they at last ceased entirely. So much for
+the major&#39;s son Richard.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter stuck to the farm. He was a big,
+kind-hearted, quiet fellow, a hard worker,
+a great reader of his father&#39;s few books.
+He married the beautiful daughter of a
+Scotchman who had recently settled at
+Green Hill&mdash;a Scotchman with a red beard,
+a pedigree longer and a deal more twisted
+than the road to Fredericton, a mastery of
+the bagpipes, two hundred acres of wild
+land and an empty sporran. Of Peter
+Starkley and his beautiful wife, Flora,
+came John, who had his father&#39;s steadfastness
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page4" id="page4"></a>[pg&nbsp;4]</span>
+and his mother&#39;s fire. He went farther
+afield for his wife than his father had gone&mdash;out
+to the big river, St. John, and down
+it many miles to the sleepy old village and
+elm-shaded meadows of Gagetown. It
+was a long way for a busy young farmer to
+go courting; but Constance Emma Garden
+was worth a thousand longer journeys.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">When Henry, the oldest of the five
+Starkley children, went to college to study
+civil engineering, sixteen-year-old Peter,
+fourteen-year-old Flora, twelve-year-old
+Dick and eight-year-old Emma were at
+home. Peter, who was done with school,
+did a man&#39;s work on the farm; he owned a
+sorrel mare with a reputation as a trotter,
+contemplated spending the next winter in
+the lumber woods and planned agriculture
+activities on a scale and of a kind to astonish
+his father.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page5" id="page5"></a>[pg&nbsp;5]</span>
+On a Saturday morning in June Dick
+and Flora, who were chums, got up even
+earlier than usual. They breakfasted by
+themselves in the summer kitchen of the
+silent house, dug earthworms in the rich
+brown loam of the garden and, taking their
+fishing rods from behind the door of the
+tool house, set out hurriedly for Frying
+Pan River. When they were halfway to
+the secluded stream they overtook Frank
+Sacobie, the great-grandson of Two-Blanket
+Sacobie, who had helped Maj. Richard
+Starkley build his house.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The young Malecite&#39;s black eyes lighted
+pleasantly at sight of his friends, but his
+lips remained unsmiling. He was a very
+thin, small-boned, long-legged boy of thirteen,
+clothed in a checked cotton shirt and
+the cut-down trousers of an older Sacobie.
+He did not wear a hat. His straight black
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page6" id="page6"></a>[pg&nbsp;6]</span>
+hair lay in a fringe just above his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Didn&#39;t you bring any worms?&quot; asked
+Flora.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Nope,&quot; said Frank.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Or any luncheon?&quot; asked Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Nope,&quot; said Frank. &quot;You two always
+fetch plenty worms and plenty grub.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He led the way along a lumbermen&#39;s
+winter road, and at last they reached the
+Frying Pan. Baiting their hooks, they
+fell to fishing.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The trout were plentiful in the Frying
+Pan; they bit, they yanked, they pulled.
+The three young fishers heaved them ashore
+by main force and awkwardness&mdash;as folk
+say round Beaver Dam&mdash;and by noon the
+three had as many fish as they could comfortably
+carry. So, winding up their lines,
+they washed their hands and sat down in
+a sunny place to lunch. All were wet, for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page7" id="page7"></a>[pg&nbsp;7]</span>
+all had fallen into the river more than once.
+Dick had his left hand in a bandage by that
+time; he had embedded a hook in the fleshy
+part of it and had dug it out with his jack-knife.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That&#39;s nothing! Just a scratch!&quot; he
+said in the best offhand military manner.
+&quot;My great-grandfather once had a Russian
+bayonet put clean through his shoulder.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Guess my great-gran&#39;father did some
+fightin&#39;, too,&quot; remarked Frank Sacobie.
+&quot;He was a big chief on the big river.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No, he didn&#39;t,&quot; said Dick. &quot;He was a
+chief, all right; but there wasn&#39;t any fighting
+on the river in his day. He was Two-Blanket
+Sacobie. I&#39;ve read all about him
+in my great-grandfather&#39;s diary.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Don&#39;t mean him,&quot; said Frank. &quot;I
+mean Two-Blanket&#39;s father&#39;s father&#39;s
+father. His name was just Sacobie, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page8" id="page8"></a>[pg&nbsp;8]</span>
+his mark was a red canoe. He fought the
+English and the Mohawks. All the Malecites
+on the big river were his people, and
+he was very good friend to the big French
+governors. The King of France sent him
+a big medal. My gran&#39;mother told me all
+about it once. She said how Two-Blanket
+got his name because he sold that medal to
+a white man on the Oromocto for two blankets;
+and that was a long time ago&mdash;way
+back before your great-gran&#39;father ever
+come to this country. I tell you, if I want
+to be a soldier, I bet I would make as good
+a soldier as Dick.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Bet you wouldn&#39;t,&quot; retorted Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;All right. I&#39;m goin&#39; to be a soldier&mdash;and
+you&#39;ll see. I&#39;m going into the militia
+as soon as I&#39;m old enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;So&#39;m I.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Flora laughed. &quot;Who will you fight
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page9" id="page9"></a>[pg&nbsp;9]</span>
+with you when you are in the militia?&quot; she
+asked.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The boys exchanged embarrassed glances.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I guess the militia could fight all right
+if it had to,&quot; said Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Of course it could,&quot; said Frank.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent">For four years after the conversation
+that took place on the bank of Frying Pan
+River Flora and Dick and the rest of the
+Starkley family except Henry lived on in
+the quiet way of the folk at Beaver Dam.
+The younger children continued to go daily
+to school at the Crossroads, to take part
+in the lighter tasks of farm and house, to
+play and fish and argue and dream great
+things of the future.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter spent each winter in the lumber
+woods. In his nineteenth year he invested
+his savings in a deserted farm near Beaver
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page10" id="page10"></a>[pg&nbsp;10]</span>
+Dam and passed the greater part of the
+summer of 1913 in repairing the old barn
+on his new possession, cutting bushes out of
+the old meadows, mending fences and clearing
+land.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">That was only a beginning he said. He
+would own a thousand acres before long
+and show the people of Beaver Dam&mdash;including
+his own father&mdash;how to farm on a
+big scale and in an up-to-date manner.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Henry, the eldest Starkley of this generation,
+had completed his course at college
+and got a job with a railway survey party
+in the upper valley of the big river. He
+proved himself to be a good engineer.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">In the spring of 1914 Frank Sacobie, now
+seventeen years of age, left Beaver Dam to
+work in a sawmill on the big river. Peter
+Starkley invested his winter&#39;s wages in another
+mare, two cows and a ton of chemical
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page11" id="page11"></a>[pg&nbsp;11]</span>
+fertilizers. He ploughed ten acres of his
+meadows and sowed five with oats, four to
+buckwheat, and planted one to potatoes.
+The whole family was thrilled with the romance
+of his undertaking. His father
+helped him to put in his crop; and Dick
+and Flora found the attractions of Peter&#39;s
+farm irresistible. The very tasks that they
+classed as work at home they considered as
+play when performed at &quot;Peter&#39;s place.&quot;
+In the romantic glow of Peter&#39;s agricultural
+beginning Dick almost resigned his
+military ambitions. But those ambitions
+were revived by Peter himself; and this is
+how it happened.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter planned to raise horses, and he
+felt that the question what class of horse to
+devote his energies to was very important.
+One day late in June he met a stranger in
+the village of Stanley, and they &quot;talked
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page12" id="page12"></a>[pg&nbsp;12]</span>
+horse.&quot; The stranger advised Peter to
+visit King&#39;s County if he wanted knowledge
+on that subject.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Enlist in the cavalry,&quot; he said&mdash;&quot;the
+8th, Princess Louise, New Brunswick Hussars.
+That will give you a trip for
+nothin&#39;&mdash;two weeks&mdash;and a dollar a day&mdash;and
+a chance to see every sort of horse that
+was ever bred in this province, right there
+in the regiment. Bring along a horse of
+your own, and the government will pay you
+another dollar a day for it&mdash;and feed it. I
+do it every year, just for a holiday and a bit
+of change.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">It sounded attractive to Peter, and two
+weeks later he and his black mare set off for
+King&#39;s County to join the regiment in its
+training camp. In his absence Dick and
+Flora looked after the sorrel mare, his cows
+and his farm. Two weeks later Peter and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page13" id="page13"></a>[pg&nbsp;13]</span>
+the mare returned; the mare was a little
+thinner than of old, and Peter was full of
+talk of horses and soldiering. Dick&#39;s military
+ambitions relit in him like an explosion
+of gunpowder.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Then came word of the war to Beaver
+Dam.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The folk of Beaver Dam, and of thousands
+of other rural communities, were
+busy with their haying when Canada
+offered a division to the mother country, for
+service in any part of the world. Militia
+officers posted through the country, seeking
+volunteers to cross the ocean and to
+bear arms against terrific Germany.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter, now in his twentieth year, wished
+to join.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;And what about your new farm and all
+your great plans?&quot; asked John Starkley.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Dick and I will look after his farm for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page14" id="page14"></a>[pg&nbsp;14]</span>
+him,&quot; said Flora. &quot;We can harvest his
+crops and&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Just then she looked at her mother and
+suddenly became silent. Mrs. Starkley&#39;s
+face was very white.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;If the need for men from Canada is
+great, other divisions will be called for,&quot;
+said the father. &quot;At present, only one division
+has been asked for&mdash;and I think
+that can easily be filled with seasoned
+militiamen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Some one drove past the window!&quot; exclaimed
+Flora.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The door opened and a young man, in
+the khaki service uniform of an officer, entered
+the room. He halted, removed his
+cap and grinned broadly at the astonished
+family.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Henry!&quot; cried Mrs. Starkley, pressing
+a hand swiftly and covertly to her side.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page15" id="page15"></a>[pg&nbsp;15]</span>
+Her husband found nothing to say just
+then. Dick and Flora and Emma ran to
+Henry and began asking questions and examining
+and fingering his belt, the leather
+strapping of his smart riding breeches,
+even his high, brown boots and shining
+spurs.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What are you, Henry?&quot; asked Flora.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;A sapper&mdash;an engineer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Are you an officer?&quot; asked Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Lieutenant, 1st Field Company, Canadian
+Engineers&mdash;that&#39;s what I am. Hope
+you approve of my boots.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Are you going, Henry?&quot; asked Peter,
+with a noticeable hitch in his voice and a
+curious expression of disappointment and
+relief in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes, I&#39;m to join my unit at the big mobilization
+camp in Quebec in ten days,&quot; replied
+Henry.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page16" id="page16"></a>[pg&nbsp;16]</span>
+John Starkley put a hand on Peter&#39;s
+shoulders. &quot;Then you will wait, Peter,&quot;
+he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You&#39;re needed here&mdash;and we must keep
+you as long as we can. One at a time is
+enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll wait now, but I will go with the next
+lot,&quot; said Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Henry had nine days in which to arrange
+his affairs, and no affairs to arrange. He
+was in high spirits and proud of his commission,
+but he put on an old tweed suit
+the next morning and helped with the last
+of the haying on the home farm and on
+Peter&#39;s place. When the nine days were
+gone he donned his uniform again and
+drove away to the nearest railway station
+with his mother and father and little
+Emma. He wrote frequent entertaining
+letters from the big camp at Valcartier.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page17" id="page17"></a>[pg&nbsp;17]</span>
+On the 29th day of September he
+embarked at Quebec; the transports
+gathered in Gaspé Basin and were joined
+there by their escort of cruisers; the great
+fleet put out to sea&mdash;the greatest fleet that
+had ever crossed the Atlantic&mdash;bearing
+thirty-three thousand Canadian soldiers to
+the battlefields of Europe instead of the
+twenty thousand that had been originally
+promised.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At Beaver Dam Peter worked harder
+than ever, but with a look in his eyes at
+times that seemed to carry beyond the job
+in hand. A few weeks ago he had experienced
+a pardonable glow of pride and self-satisfaction
+when people had pointed him
+out as the young fellow who had bought
+the old Smith place and who was going to
+farm in a big way; now it seemed to him
+that the only man worth pointing out was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page18" id="page18"></a>[pg&nbsp;18]</span>
+the man who had enlisted to fight the
+swarming legions of Germany.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He did not invest in any more live stock
+that fall. He sold all of the oats and straw
+that he did not need for the wintering of his
+two mares and two cows. He did not look
+for a job in the lumber woods. His
+potatoes were a clean and heavy crop; and
+he went to Stanley to sell them. That was
+early in October.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The storekeeper there was a man named
+Hammond, who dealt in farm produce on
+a large scale and who shipped to the cities
+of the province. He engaged to take
+Peter&#39;s crop at a good price, then talked
+about the war. One of his sons, a lieutenant
+in the militia, had sailed with the first
+contingent. They talked of that young
+man and Henry and others who had gone.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I am off with the next lot,&quot; said Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page19" id="page19"></a>[pg&nbsp;19]</span>
+&quot;That will be soon enough,&quot; said the merchant
+thoughtfully. &quot;My daughter, Vivia,
+has been visiting in Fredericton, and she
+tells me there is talk of a second division
+already. Jim says he is going with the next
+lot, too. That will leave me without a son
+at all, but I haven&#39;t the face to try to talk
+him out of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter accepted an invitation to have
+dinner with the Hammonds. He knew the
+other members of the family slightly&mdash;Mrs.
+Hammond, Vivia and Jim. Jim, who was
+a year or two older than Peter, was a thickset,
+dull-looking young man with a reputation
+as a shrewd trader. He was his
+father&#39;s chief assistant in the business.
+Patrick, the son who had sailed with the
+first contingent, had a reputation as a fisherman
+and hunter, which meant that he was
+considered as frivolous and that he had no
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page20" id="page20"></a>[pg&nbsp;20]</span>
+standing at all as a business man. Vivia,
+the daughter, resembled Patrick rather than
+Jim. She was about seventeen years old.
+Peter, who had not seen her for twelve
+months, wondered how such a heavy duffer
+as Jim Hammond came by such a sister.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">During the meal Peter paid a great deal
+of attention to everything Vivia Hammond
+said, and Vivia did more talking than anyone
+else at the table; and yet by the time
+Peter was on the road for Beaver Dam he
+could not remember a dozen words of all
+the hundreds she had spoken. Likewise,
+he attended her with his eyes as faithfully
+as with his ears; and yet by the time he was
+halfway home his mind&#39;s picture of her was
+all gone to glimmering fragments. The
+more he concentrated his thoughts upon her
+the less clearly could he see her.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He laughed at himself. He could not
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page21" id="page21"></a>[pg&nbsp;21]</span>
+remember ever having been in a like difficulty
+before. Well, he could afford to
+laugh, for, after all, he lived within a
+reasonable distance of her and could drive
+over again any day if his defective memory
+troubled him seriously. And that is
+exactly what he did,&mdash;and on the very next
+day at that,&mdash;&mdash;half believing even himself
+that he went to talk about enlisting, and the
+war in general, with her heavy brother.
+He did not see Jim on that occasion, and
+during a ten-minutes&#39; interview with Vivia
+he did not say more than a dozen words.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On the 4th of November Peter read in the
+Fredericton Harvester that recruiting had
+begun in the city of St. John for the 26th
+Infantry Battalion, a newly authorized unit
+for overseas service. The family circle at
+Beaver Dam sat up late that night. Peter
+talked excitedly, and the others listened in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page22" id="page22"></a>[pg&nbsp;22]</span>
+silence. Dick&#39;s eyes shone in the lamplight.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter drove over to Stanley early the next
+morning and there took the train to Fredericton,
+and from Fredericton to St. John.
+He felt no military thrill. Loneliness and
+homesickness weighed on him already&mdash;loneliness
+for his people, for the wide home
+kitchen and bright sitting-room, for his own
+fields.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He reached the big city by the sea after
+dark. The traffic of the hard streets, the
+foggy lights and the heedless, hurrying
+crowds of people added bewilderment to his
+loneliness. With his baggage at his feet, he
+stood in the station and gazed miserably
+around.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter Starkley did not stand there unnoticed.
+Dozens of the people who pushed
+past him eyed him with interest and wondered
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page23" id="page23"></a>[pg&nbsp;23]</span>
+what he was waiting for. He was so
+evidently not of the city. He looked at
+once rustic and distinguished. But no one
+spoke to him until a sergeant in a khaki
+service uniform caught sight of him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I can&#39;t make you out,&quot; said the sergeant,
+stepping up to him.</p>
+
+<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 473px;">
+<a name="i035" id="i035"></a>
+<img class="border" src="images/i035.jpg" width="473" height="700" alt="" />
+<div class="caption">
+<p class="center">&quot;&#39;I CAN&#39;T MAKE YOU OUT,&#39; SAID THE SERGEANT.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I can place you,&quot; he said. &quot;You&#39;re a
+sergeant.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Right,&quot; returned the other. &quot;And
+you&#39;re from the country. Your big felt hat
+tells me so&mdash;and your tanned face. But I
+can see that you&#39;re a person of some importance
+where you come from.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter blushed. &quot;I am a farmer and a
+trooper in the 8th Hussars, and I have come
+here to enlist for overseas with the new infantry
+battalion,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That&#39;s what I hoped!&quot; exclaimed the
+sergeant. &quot;Come along with me, lad. You
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page24" id="page24"></a>[pg&nbsp;24]</span>
+are for the 26th Canadian Overseas Infantry
+Battalion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The sergeant, whose name was Hammer,
+was a cheery, friendly fellow. He was also
+a very keen soldier and entertained a high
+opinion of the military qualities of the new
+battalion. On reaching the armory of the
+local militia regiment, now being used as
+headquarters of the new unit, Hammer led
+Peter straight to the medical officer. The
+doctor found nothing the matter with the
+recruit from Beaver Dam. Then Hammer
+paraded him before the adjutant. Peter
+answered a few questions, took a solemn
+oath and signed a paper.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Now you&#39;re a soldier, a regular soldier,&quot;
+said the sergeant and slapped him on the
+back. &quot;Come along now, and in half an
+hour I&#39;ll have you fitted into a uniform as
+trim as my own.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page25" id="page25"></a>[pg&nbsp;25]</span>
+Within a month Peter Starkley had distinguished
+himself as a steady soldier; he
+had attained to the rank of lance corporal,
+and then of corporal. His steadiness was
+largely owing to homesickness. Of his few
+intimates the closest was Sergt. Hammer.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim Hammond did not join the regiment
+until close upon Christmas. He was found
+physically fit; and, as a result of a request
+made by Peter to Hammer and by the sergeant
+to Lieut. Scammell, and by the lieutenant
+to the adjutant, he became a member
+of the same platoon as Peter. Not only
+that, he became one of Hammer&#39;s section,
+in which Peter was a corporal.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter felt that he should like to be good
+friends with Jim Hammond, but he did not
+give a definite reason even to himself for
+that wish. Jim, in his own person, was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page26" id="page26"></a>[pg&nbsp;26]</span>
+not attractive to him. Peter felt misgivings
+when Jim, within two days of donning his
+uniform, began to grumble about the severity
+of the training. Three days later Dave
+Hammer, in his official capacity as a section
+commander, fell upon Jim Hammond in
+his official capacity as a private soldier.
+Reason and justice, as well as authority,
+were with the sergeant. Jim came to Peter
+that evening.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Look a-here, who does Dave Hammer
+think he is, anyhow?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I guess he knows who he is,&quot; replied
+Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Well, whoever he is,&quot; Hammond declared
+wrathfully, &quot;I won&#39;t be bawled out
+by him. I guess I&#39;m as good a man as he is&mdash;and
+better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You&#39;ll have lots of chances, from now
+on, to show how good a man you are. Acting
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page27" id="page27"></a>[pg&nbsp;27]</span>
+as you did on the route march this afternoon
+doesn&#39;t show it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hammond&#39;s face darkened.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Is that so?&quot; he retorted. &quot;Well, I&#39;ll tell
+you now I didn&#39;t come soldiering to be
+taught my business by you or any other
+bushwhacker from Beaver Dam. You got
+two stripes, I see. I&#39;d have two stars if I
+took to licking people&#39;s boots the way you
+do, Peter Starkley.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter bent forward, and his lean face
+hardened, and his dark eyes glinted coldly.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I don&#39;t want to have trouble with you,
+Jim,&quot; he said, and his voice was no more
+than a whisper, &quot;but it will happen if you
+don&#39;t look out. I don&#39;t lick any man&#39;s
+boots! If I hear another word like that
+out of you, I&#39;ll lick something&mdash;and that
+will be you! Do you get me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He looked dangerous. Hammond tried
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page28" id="page28"></a>[pg&nbsp;28]</span>
+to glare him down, but failed. Hammond&#39;s
+own eyes wavered. He grunted
+and turned away. The next morning he
+applied for a Christmas pass, which was refused
+on the ground that the men who had
+joined first should be the first to receive
+passes. He felt thoroughly ill-used.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page29" id="page29"></a>[pg&nbsp;29]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chII" id="chII"></a>CHAPTER II<br />
+<small>JIM HAMMOND DOES NOT RETURN TO DUTY</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">PETER STARKLEY got home to
+Beaver Dam for New Year&#39;s Day
+on a six days&#39; pass. Jim Hammond
+had also tried to get a pass, but he had
+failed. Peter found his homesickness increased
+by those six days; but he made
+every effort to hide his emotions. He
+talked bravely of his duties and his comrades,
+and especially of Dave Hammer.
+He said nothing about Jim Hammond except
+when questioned, and then as little as
+possible.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He polished his buttons and badges every
+morning and rolled his putties as if for
+parade. The smartness of his carriage
+gave a distinction even to the unlovely khaki
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page30" id="page30"></a>[pg&nbsp;30]</span>
+service uniform of a British noncommissioned
+officer. He looked like a guardsman
+and felt like a schoolboy who dreaded the
+approaching term. He haunted the barns
+and stables of the home farm and of his
+own place and tramped the snow-laden
+woods and blanketed fields. In spite of
+his efforts to think only of the harsh and
+foreign task before him, he dreamed of
+clearings here and crops there. The keen,
+kindly eyes of his parents saw through to
+his heart.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">One day of the six he spent in the village
+of Stanley. He called first at Hammond&#39;s
+store, where he tried to give Mr. Hammond
+the impression that he had dropped in
+casually, but as he had nothing to sell and
+did not wish to buy anything he failed to
+hoodwink the storekeeper. Mr. Hammond
+was cordial, but seemed worried.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page31" id="page31"></a>[pg&nbsp;31]</span>
+He complimented Peter on his promotion
+and his soldierly appearance.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Glad you got home,&quot; he said. &quot;Wish
+Jim could have come along with you, but
+he writes as how they won&#39;t give him a
+pass. Seems to me it ain&#39;t more than only
+fair to let all the boys come home for Christmas
+or New Year&#39;s.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Then there wouldn&#39;t be any one left to
+carry on,&quot; said Peter. &quot;They&#39;ve fixed it
+so that those who have been longest on the
+job get the first passes; but I guess every one
+will get home for a few days before we
+sail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Jim says the training&mdash;the drill and all
+that&mdash;is mighty hard,&quot; continued Mr. Hammond.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Some find it so, and some don&#39;t,&quot; replied
+Peter awkwardly. &quot;I guess it&#39;s what
+you might call a matter of taste.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page32" id="page32"></a>[pg&nbsp;32]</span>
+&quot;Like enough,&quot; said the storekeeper,
+scratching his chin. &quot;It&#39;s a matter of
+taste&mdash;and not to Jim&#39;s taste, that&#39;s
+sure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter felt relieved to see that Mr. Hammond
+seemed to understand the case. He
+was about to elaborate on the subject of
+military training when a middle-aged man
+wearing a bowler hat and a fur-lined overcoat
+turned from the counter. He had a
+square, clean-shaven face and very bright
+and active black eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Excuse me, corporal,&quot; the stranger said,
+&quot;but may I horn in and inquire what you
+think of it yourself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You can ask if you want to, Mr. Sill,&quot;
+said Mr. Hammond, &quot;but you won&#39;t hear
+any kick out of Peter Starkley, whether he
+likes it or not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It&#39;s easier than working in the woods,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page33" id="page33"></a>[pg&nbsp;33]</span>
+either chopping or teaming,&quot; said Peter
+pleasantly, &quot;and I&#39;ll bet a dollar it is a
+sight easier than the real fighting will
+be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That&#39;s the way to look at it, corporal,&quot;
+said the stranger. &quot;I guess that in a war
+like this a man has to make up his mind
+to take the fun and the ferocity, the music
+and the mud, and the pie and the pain,
+just as they come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I guess so,&quot; said Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The stranger shook his hand cordially
+and just before he turned away remarked,
+&quot;Maybe you and I will meet again sooner
+than you expect.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Who is he, and what&#39;s he driving at?&quot;
+asked Peter, when the stranger had left
+the store.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He is a Yank, and a traveler for Maddock
+&amp; Co. of St. John, and his name is
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page34" id="page34"></a>[pg&nbsp;34]</span>
+Hiram Sill&mdash;but I don&#39;t know what he is
+driving at any more than you do,&quot; replied
+Mr. Hammond.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The storekeeper invited Peter to call
+round at the house and to stay to dinner and
+for as long as he liked afterwards. Peter
+accepted the invitation. The Hammond
+house stood beside the store, but farther back
+from the road. It was white and big, with
+a veranda in front of it, a row of leafless
+maples, a snowdrifted lawn and a picket
+fence. Vivia Hammond opened the door
+to his ring. From behind the curtain of
+the parlor window she had seen him approach.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At dinner Peter talked more than was
+usual with him; something in the way the
+girl listened to him inspired him to conversation.
+At two o&#39;clock he accompanied her
+to the river and skated with her. They
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page35" id="page35"></a>[pg&nbsp;35]</span>
+had such parts of the river as were not
+drifted with snow to themselves, except for
+two little boys. The little boys, interested
+in Peter as a military man, kept them constantly
+in sight. Peter felt decidedly hostile
+toward those harmless boys, but he was
+too shy to mention it to Vivia. He was delighted
+and astonished when she turned
+upon them at last and said:</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Billy Brandon, you and Jack had better
+take off your skates and go home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I guess we got as much right as anybody
+on this here river,&quot; replied Billy Brandon,
+but there was a lack of conviction in his
+voice.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You were both in bed with grippe only
+last week,&quot; Vivia retorted; &quot;but I&#39;ll call in
+at your house and ask your mother about
+it on my way up the hill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The little boys had nothing to say to that.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page36" id="page36"></a>[pg&nbsp;36]</span>
+They maintained a casual air, skated in circles
+and figures for a few minutes and then
+went home. For ten minutes after that the
+corporal and the girl skated in an electrical
+silence, looking everywhere except at each
+other. Then Peter ventured a slanting
+glance across his left shoulder at her little
+fur-cuddled face. Their eyes met.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Poor Mrs. Brandon can&#39;t manage those
+boys,&quot; she said. &quot;But they are very good
+boys, really. They do everything I tell
+them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Why shouldn&#39;t they? But I&#39;m glad
+they&#39;re gone, anyway,&quot; he replied, in a voice
+that seemed to be tangled and strangled in
+the collar of his greatcoat.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">When Vivia and Peter returned to the
+house the eastern sky was eggshell green
+and the west, low along the black forests,
+as red as the draft of a stove. Their conversation
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page37" id="page37"></a>[pg&nbsp;37]</span>
+had never fully recovered after
+the incident of the two little boys. Wonderful
+and amazing thoughts and emotions
+churned round in Peter&#39;s head and heart,
+but he did not venture to give voice to them.
+They bewildered him. He stayed to tea
+and at that comfortable meal Mr. and Mrs.
+Hammond did the talking. Vivia and
+Peter looked at each other only shyly as if
+they were afraid of what they might see in
+each other&#39;s eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At last Peter went to the barn and harnessed
+the mare. Then he returned to the
+house to say good night to the ladies. That
+accomplished, Vivia accompanied him to
+the front door. Beyond the front door, as
+a protection against icy winds and drifting
+snow, was the winter porch&mdash;not much bigger
+than a sentry box. Stepping across the
+threshold, from the warm hall into the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page38" id="page38"></a>[pg&nbsp;38]</span>
+porch, Peter turned and clutched and held
+the girl&#39;s hand across the threshold. The
+tumult of his heart flooded up and smothered
+the fear in his brain.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I never spent such a happy day in all
+my life,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Vivia said nothing. And then the mischief
+got into the elbow of the corporal&#39;s
+right arm. It twitched; and, since his
+right hand still clasped Vivia&#39;s hand, the
+girl was jerked, with a little skip, right out
+of the hall and into the boxlike porch.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Two seconds later Peter pulled open the
+porch door and dashed into the frosty night.
+He jumped into the pung, and away went
+the mare as if something of her master&#39;s
+madness had been communicated to her.
+The corporal had kissed Vivia!</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter returned to his battalion two days
+later. In St. John he found everything
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page39" id="page39"></a>[pg&nbsp;39]</span>
+much as usual. Hammer was as brisk and
+soldierly as ever, but Jim Hammond was
+more sulky than before. Peter considered
+the battalion with a new interest. Life,
+even away from Beaver Dam, seemed more
+worth while, and he went at his work with
+a jump. He wrote twice a week to Vivia,
+spending hours in the construction of each
+letter and yet always leaving out the things
+that he wanted most to write. The girl&#39;s
+replies were the results of a similar literary
+method.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The training of the battalion went on,
+indoors and out, day after day. In March,
+Jim Hammond went home for six days.
+By that time he was known throughout the
+battalion as a confirmed sulker. The six
+days passed; the seventh day came and went
+without sight or news of him, and then the
+adjutant wired to Mr. Hammond. No
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page40" id="page40"></a>[pg&nbsp;40]</span>
+reply came from the storekeeper. Lieut.
+Scammell questioned Peter about the family.
+Peter told what he knew&mdash;that the
+Hammonds were fine people, that one son
+was an officer already in England, and that
+the father was an honest and patriotic citizen.
+So another wire was sent from the
+orderly room. That, like the first, failed
+to produce results.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The adjutant, Capt. Long, then sent for
+Peter. This officer was not much more than
+five feet high, despite the name of his
+fathers, and was built in proportion. It
+tickled the humor of the men to see such a
+little fellow chase ten hundred bigger fellows
+round from morning until night.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You are to go upriver and find out why
+Private Hammond has not returned to
+duty,&quot; said the captain.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes, sir,&quot; said Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page41" id="page41"></a>[pg&nbsp;41]</span>
+&quot;Inform me by wire,&quot; continued the captain.
+&quot;Use your brains. I am sending
+you alone, because I want to give Hammond
+a chance for the sake of his brother
+overseas. Here are your pass, your railway
+warrant and a chit for the paymaster.
+That&#39;s all, Corp. Starkley.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter saluted and retired. He reached
+Fredericton that night and the home village
+of Jim Hammond by noon of the next
+day. He went straight to the store, where
+Mr. Hammond greeted him with astonishment.
+Peter saw no sign of Jim.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I didn&#39;t expect to see you back so soon,&quot;
+said Mr. Hammond.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I got a chance, so I took it,&quot; replied
+Peter. &quot;How&#39;s all the family?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The storekeeper smiled. &quot;The womenfolk
+are well,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter saw that he had come suddenly to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page42" id="page42"></a>[pg&nbsp;42]</span>
+the point where he must exercise all the
+tact he possessed. He felt keenly embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Did you get a telegram?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No. Did you wire us you were coming?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Not that, exactly. You see, it was like
+this, Mr. Hammond: when Jim didn&#39;t get
+back the day he was due the adjutant sent
+you a wire, and when he didn&#39;t get an
+answer he sent another&mdash;and when you
+didn&#39;t reply to that he detailed me to come
+along and see what was wrong.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The storekeeper stared at him. &quot;I never
+got any telegram. Jim came home on two
+weeks&#39; furlough, and he has five days of it
+left. You and your adjutant must be
+crazy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Two weeks,&quot; repeated Peter. &quot;It was
+six days he got.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page43" id="page43"></a>[pg&nbsp;43]</span>
+&quot;Six days! Are you sure of that, Peter
+Starkley?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;As sure as that&#39;s my name, Mr. Hammond.
+And the adjutant sent you two
+telegrams, asking why Jim didn&#39;t return to
+duty when his pass was up&mdash;and he didn&#39;t
+get any answer. If you didn&#39;t get one or
+other of those telegrams, then there is something
+wrong somewhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Mr. Hammond&#39;s face clouded. &quot;I didn&#39;t
+get any wire, Peter&mdash;and Jim went away
+day before yesterday, to visit some friends,&quot;
+he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They eyed each other in silence for a
+little while; both were bitterly embarrassed,
+and the storekeeper was numbed with
+shame.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll go for him,&quot; he said. &quot;If I fetch
+him to you here, will you promise to&mdash;to
+keep the truth of it quiet, Peter&mdash;from his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page44" id="page44"></a>[pg&nbsp;44]</span>
+mother and sister and the folk about here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll do the best I can,&quot; promised the
+corporal, &quot;but not for Jim&#39;s sake, mind you,
+Mr. Hammond. Capt. Long is for giving
+him a chance because of his brother, Pat,
+over on Salisbury Plain&mdash;and that&#39;s why he
+sent me alone, instead of sending a sergeant
+with an escort.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll go fetch him, Peter,&quot; said the other,
+in a shaking voice. &quot;You go along to
+Beaver Dam and come back to-morrow&mdash;to
+see Vivia. When Jim and I turn up you
+meet him just like it was by chance. Keep
+your mouth shut, Peter. Not a word to a
+living soul about his only having six days.
+He&#39;s not well, and that&#39;s the truth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">A dull anger was awake in Peter by this
+time.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Something the matter with his feet,&quot; he
+said and left the store.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page45" id="page45"></a>[pg&nbsp;45]</span>
+Here he was, told to be tactful by Capt.
+Long and to keep his mouth shut by Mr.
+Hammond, all on account of a sulky, lazy,
+bad-tempered fellow who had been a disgrace
+to the battalion since the day he
+joined it. And not a word about stopping
+for dinner!</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He crossed the road to the hotel, made
+arrangements to be driven out to Beaver
+Dam and then ate a lonely dinner. He
+thought of Vivia Hammond only a few
+yards away from him, yet unconscious of
+his proximity&mdash;and he wanted to punch the
+head of her brother Jim. He drove away
+from the hotel up the long hill without venturing
+a glance at the windows of the big
+white house on the other side of the road.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The family at Beaver Dam accepted his
+visit without question. No mention was
+made of Jim Hammond that night. Peter
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page46" id="page46"></a>[pg&nbsp;46]</span>
+was up and out early the next morning, lending
+a hand with the feeding and milking.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">After breakfast he and Dick went over
+to his own place to have a look at his house
+and barns.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Frank Sacobie came home last week,&quot;
+said Dick. &quot;He&#39;s been out to see us twice.
+He wants to enlist in your outfit, but I am
+trying to hold him off till next year so&#39;s we
+can go over together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You babies had better keep your bibs on
+a few years longer,&quot; said Peter. &quot;I guess
+there will be lots of time for all of you to
+fight in this war without forcing yourselves
+under glass.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They rounded a spur of spruces and saw
+Sacobie approaching on snowshoes across
+the white meadows. He had grown taller
+and deeper in the chest since Peter had last
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page47" id="page47"></a>[pg&nbsp;47]</span>
+seen him. The greeting was cordial but not
+wordy. Sacobie turned and accompanied
+them.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I see Jim Hammond yesterday, out Pike
+Settlement way,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That so?&quot; returned Peter, trying to
+seem uninterested.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No uniform on, neither, and drinkin&#39;
+some,&quot; continued Sacobie. &quot;Says he&#39;s got
+his discharge from that outfit because it
+ain&#39;t reckoned as first-class and has
+been asked to be an officer in another outfit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Then Peter forgot his instructions. Jim
+Hammond too good for the 26th battalion!
+Jim Hammond offered a commission! His
+indignant heart sent his blood racing
+through him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He&#39;s a liar!&quot; he cried. &quot;Yes, and a deserter,
+too, by thunder!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page48" id="page48"></a>[pg&nbsp;48]</span>
+Dick was astonished, but Frank Sacobie
+received the information calmly, without so
+much as a flicker of the eyelids.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I think that all the time I listen to him,&quot;
+he said. &quot;I figger to get his job, anyway,
+if he lie or tell the truth. I go down to-morrow,
+Peter, and you tell the colonel
+how I make a darn sight better soldier than
+Jim Hammond.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter gripped the others each by an
+arm.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I shouldn&#39;t have said that,&quot; he cautioned
+them. &quot;Forget it! You boys have got to
+keep it under your hats, but I guess it&#39;s up
+to me to take a jog out Pike Settlement way.
+If you boys say a word about it, you get in
+wrong with me and you get me in wrong
+with a whole heap of folks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They turned and went back to Beaver
+Dam. There they hitched the mares to the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page49" id="page49"></a>[pg&nbsp;49]</span>
+big red pung and stowed in their blankets
+and half a bag of oats.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I can&#39;t tell you where I&#39;m going or
+what for, but only that it is a military duty,&quot;
+said Peter in answer to the questions of the
+family.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He took Dick and Frank Sacobie with
+him. Once they got beyond the outskirts of
+the home settlement they found heavy sledding.
+At noon they halted, blanketed and
+baited the mares, boiled the kettle and
+lunched. The wide, white roadway before
+them, winding between walls of green-black
+spruces and gray maples, was marked with
+only the tracks of one pair of horses and one
+pair of sled runners&mdash;evidently made the
+day before. Peter guessed them to be those
+of Mr. Hammond&#39;s team, but he said nothing
+about that to his companions.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Here and there they passed drifted clearings
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page50" id="page50"></a>[pg&nbsp;50]</span>
+and little houses sending blue feathers
+of smoke into the bright air. They came to
+places where the team that had passed the
+previous day had been stuck in the drifts and
+laboriously dug out.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They were within two miles of the settlement,
+between heavy woods fronted with
+tangled alders, when the cracking <i>whang!</i>
+of exploding cordite sounded in the underbrush.
+The mares plunged, then stood.
+The reins slipped from Peter&#39;s mittened
+hands.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;m hit, boys!&quot; he said and then sagged
+over across Dick&#39;s knees.</p>
+
+<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 700px;">
+<a name="i065" id="i065"></a>
+<img class="border" src="images/i065.jpg" width="700" height="426" alt="" />
+<div class="caption">
+<p class="center">&quot;&#39;I&#39;M HIT, BOYS!&#39; HE SAID.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent">They laid him on hay and horse blankets
+in the bottom of the pung and covered him
+with fur robes. Then Sacobie got up in
+front and drove.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">No sound except the rapping of a woodpecker
+came from the woods. Peter
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page51" id="page51"></a>[pg&nbsp;51]</span>
+breathed regularly. Presently he opened
+his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It&#39;s in the ribs, by the feel of it&mdash;but
+it doesn&#39;t hurt much,&quot; he said. &quot;Felt
+like a kick from a horse at first. Remember
+not to say anything about Jim Hammond.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They put him to bed at the first farmhouse
+they reached. All his clothing on
+the right side was stiff with blood. Dick
+bandaged the wound; and a doctor arrived
+two hours later. The bullet had nipped
+in and out, splintering a rib, and lay just
+beneath the skin. Peter had bled a good
+deal, but not to a dangerous extent.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Before sunrise the next morning Dick
+and Frank Sacobie set out on their return
+journey, taking with them a brief telegram
+and a letter for Capt. Long. Peter had
+dictated the message, but had written the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page52" id="page52"></a>[pg&nbsp;52]</span>
+letter with great effort, one wavery word
+after another.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Mr. Hammond and John Starkley
+reached Pike Settlement late at night. The
+storekeeper seemed broken in spirit, but
+some color came back to his face when he
+saw Peter lying there in the bed at the farmhouse
+with as cheerful an air as if he had
+only strained his ankle.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I must see you a few minutes alone before
+I leave,&quot; he whispered, stooping over
+the bed.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Don&#39;t worry,&quot; answered Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">John Starkley was vastly relieved to find
+his son doing so well. His bewilderment
+that any one in that country should pull a
+trigger on Peter almost swamped his indignation.
+The more he thought it over the
+more bewildered he became.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You haven&#39;t an enemy in the world,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page53" id="page53"></a>[pg&nbsp;53]</span>
+Peter&mdash;except the Germans,&quot; he said. &quot;But
+that was no chance shot. If it had been an
+accident, the fellow with the rifle would
+have come out to lend a hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I guess that&#39;s so,&quot; replied Peter.
+&quot;Maybe it was a German. It means a lot
+to the Kaiser to keep me out of this war.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">His father smiled. &quot;Joking aside, lad,&quot;
+he said, &quot;who do you suppose it was?
+What was the bullet? Many a murderer
+has been traced before now on a less likely
+clue than a bullet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Isn&#39;t the bullet on the table there, Mr.
+Hammond? The doctor gave it to me, and
+I chucked it somewhere&mdash;over there or
+somewhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They looked in vain for the bullet. Later,
+when the guests and the household were at
+supper, Mr. Hammond excused himself
+from table and ran up to Peter&#39;s room.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page54" id="page54"></a>[pg&nbsp;54]</span>
+He closed the door behind him, leaned
+over the bed and grasped Peter&#39;s left hand
+in both of his.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I did my best,&quot; he whispered. &quot;I
+found him and told him you had been sent
+because the officer wanted to give him a
+chance. But he had been drinking heavy.
+He wasn&#39;t himself, Peter&mdash;he was like a
+madman. I begged him to come back with
+me, but he wouldn&#39;t hear reason or kindness.
+He knocked me down&mdash;me, his own
+father&mdash;and got away from that house.
+What are you going to do, Peter? You
+are a man, Starkley&mdash;a big man&mdash;big
+enough to be merciful. What d&#39;you mean
+to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Nothing,&quot; said Peter. &quot;I came to find
+Jim, and I haven&#39;t found him. I got shot
+instead by some one I haven&#39;t seen hair,
+hide or track of. It&#39;s up to the army to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page55" id="page55"></a>[pg&nbsp;55]</span>
+find Jim, if they still want him; but as far
+as I am concerned he may be back with the
+battalion this minute for all I know. I
+hope he is. As for the fellow who made a
+target of me, well, he didn&#39;t kill me, and I
+don&#39;t hold a grudge against him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Mr. Hammond went home the first thing
+in the morning. John Starkley waited until
+the doctor called again and dressed the
+wound and said he had never seen any one
+take a splintered rib and a hole in the side
+so well as Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;If he keeps on like this, you&#39;ll be able
+to take him home in ten days or so,&quot; said
+the doctor.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">So John Starkley returned to Beaver
+Dam, delivered the good news to his family
+and heard in return that young Frank
+Sacobie had gone to St. John and joined the
+26th.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page56" id="page56"></a>[pg&nbsp;56]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chIII" id="chIII"></a>CHAPTER III<br />
+<small>THE VETERANS OF OTHER DAYS</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">WHEN Peter was able to travel,
+he was taken home to Beaver
+Dam, and there a medical
+officer, a major in spurs, examined him and
+congratulated him on being alive. Peter
+was given six months&#39; sick leave; and that,
+he knew, killed his chance of crossing the
+ocean with his battalion. He protested,
+but the officer told him that, whether in
+bed in his father&#39;s house or with his platoon,
+he was still in the army and would have to
+do as he was told. The officer said it
+kindly and added that as soon as he was
+fit he should return to his battalion, whether
+it was in Canada, England or Flanders.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim Hammond vanished. The army
+marked him as a deserter, and even his own
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page57" id="page57"></a>[pg&nbsp;57]</span>
+battalion forgot him. Confused rumors
+circulated round his home village for a
+little while and then faded and expired.
+As Jim Hammond vanished from the
+knowledge and thought of men, so vanished
+the mysterious rifleman who had splintered
+Peter&#39;s rib.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Spring brought the great news of the
+stand of the First Canadian Division at
+Ypres&mdash;the stand of the few against the
+many, of the Canadian militia against the
+greatest and most ruthless fighting machine
+of the whole world. The German army
+was big and ready, but it was not great as
+we know greatness now. The little Belgians
+had already checked it and pierced
+the joints of its armor; the French had
+beaten it against odds; the little old army
+of England, with its monocles and its tea
+and its pouter-chested sergeant majors, had
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page58" id="page58"></a>[pg&nbsp;58]</span>
+outshot it and outfought it at every meeting;
+and now three brigades of Canadian infantry
+and a few batteries of Canadian artillery
+had stood undaunted before its deluge
+of metal and strangling gas and held
+it back from the open road to Calais and
+Paris.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Lieut. Pat Hammond wrote home about
+the battle. He had been in the edge of it
+and had escaped unhurt. Henry Starkley,
+of the First Field Company, was there,
+too. He received a slight wound. Private
+letters and the great stories of the
+newspapers thrilled the hearts of thousands
+of peaceful, unheroic folk. Volunteers
+flowed in from lumber camps and farms.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">In May Dick Starkley made the great
+move of his young life. He was now seventeen
+years old and sound and strong. He
+saw that Peter could not get away with his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page59" id="page59"></a>[pg&nbsp;59]</span>
+battalion&mdash;that, unless something unexpected
+happened, the Second Canadian Division
+would get away without a Starkley of
+Beaver Dam.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">So he did the unexpected thing: he went
+away to St. John without a word, introduced
+himself to Sgt. Dave Hammer as Peter&#39;s
+brother, added a year to his age and became
+a member of the 26th Battalion. He found
+Frank Sacobie there, already possessed of
+all the airs of an old soldier.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick sent a telegram to his father and a
+long, affectionate, confused letter to his
+mother. His parents understood and forgave
+and went to St. John and told him so&mdash;and
+Peter sent word that he, too, understood;
+and Dick was happy. Then with all
+his thought and energy and ambition he set
+to work to make himself a good soldier.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter did not grumble again about his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page60" id="page60"></a>[pg&nbsp;60]</span>
+sick leave. His wound healed; and as the
+warm days advanced he grew stronger with
+every day. He had been wounded in the
+performance of his duty as surely as if a
+German had fired the shot across the mud
+of No Man&#39;s Land; so he accepted those
+extra months in the place and life he loved
+with a gratitude that was none the less deep
+for being silent.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">In June the Battalion embarked for England,
+in strength eleven hundred noncommissioned
+officers and men and forty-two
+officers. After an uneventful voyage of
+eleven days they reached Devenport, in
+England, on the twenty-fourth day of the
+month. The three other battalions of the
+brigade had reached England a month before;
+the 26th joined them at the training
+camps in Kent and immediately set to work
+to learn the science of modern warfare.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page61" id="page61"></a>[pg&nbsp;61]</span>
+They toiled day and night with vigor and
+constancy; and before fall the battalion was
+declared efficient for service at the front.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Both Dick Starkley and Frank Sacobie
+throve on the hard work. The musketry
+tests proved Sacobie to be one of the best
+five marksmen in the battalion. Dick was
+a good shot, too, but fell far below his friend
+at the longer ranges. In drill, bombing
+and physical training, Dick showed himself
+a more apt pupil than the Malecite. At
+trench digging and route marching there
+was nothing to choose between them, in
+spite of the fact that Sacobie had the advantage
+of a few inches in length of leg.
+Both were good soldiers, popular with their
+comrades and trusted by their officers.
+Both were in Dave Hammer&#39;s section and
+Mr. Scammell&#39;s platoon.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">One afternoon in August Henry Starkley
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page62" id="page62"></a>[pg&nbsp;62]</span>
+turned up at Westenhanger, on seven
+days&#39; leave from France. He looked years
+older than when Dick had last seen him and
+thinner of face, and on his left breast was
+stitched the ribbon of the military cross.
+He obtained a pass for Dick and took him
+up to London. They put up at a quiet hotel
+off the Strand, at which Henry had stopped
+on his frequent week-end visits to town from
+Salisbury Plain. As they were engaged in
+filling in the complicated and exhaustive
+registration form the hall porter gave Henry
+three letters and told him that a gentleman
+had called several times to see him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What name?&quot; asked Henry.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That he didn&#39;t tell me, sir,&quot; replied the
+porter, &quot;but as it was him wrote the letters
+you have in your hand you&#39;ll soon know,
+sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Henry opened one of the envelopes and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page63" id="page63"></a>[pg&nbsp;63]</span>
+turned the inclosure over in quest of the
+writer&#39;s signature. There it was&mdash;J. A.
+Starkley-Davenport. All three letters were
+from the same hand, penned at dates
+several weeks apart. They said that before
+her marriage the writer&#39;s mother had
+been a Miss Mary Starkley, daughter of a
+London merchant by the name of Richard
+Starkley. Richard Starkley, a colonial by
+birth with trade connections with the West
+Indies, had come from Beaver Dam in the
+province of New Brunswick. The letters
+said further that their writer had read in
+the casualty lists the name of Lieut. Henry
+Starkley of the Canadian Engineers, and
+that after diligent inquiry he had learned
+that this same officer had registered at the
+Canadian High Commissioner&#39;s office in
+October, 1914, and given his London address
+as the Tudor Hotel. Failing to obtain any
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page64" id="page64"></a>[pg&nbsp;64]</span>
+further information concerning Henry
+Starkley, the writer had kept a constant eye
+on the Tudor Hotel. He begged Mr.
+Henry Starkley to ring up Mayfair 2607,
+without loss of time, should any one of
+these letters ever come to his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What&#39;s his hurry, I wonder?&quot; remarked
+Henry. &quot;After three generations without a
+word I guess he&#39;ll have to wait until to-morrow
+morning to hear from the Starkleys
+of Beaver Dam.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Why not let him wait for three more
+generations?&quot; suggested Dick. &quot;His grandfather,
+that London merchant, soon forgot
+about the people back in the woods at
+Beaver Dam. Since the second battle of
+Ypres, this lad with the hitched-up-double
+name wants to be seen round with you,
+Henry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;If that&#39;s all, he does not want much,&quot;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page65" id="page65"></a>[pg&nbsp;65]</span>
+said Henry. &quot;We&#39;ll take a look at him,
+anyway. Don&#39;t forget that the first Starkley
+of Beaver Dam was once an English
+soldier and that there was a first battle of
+Ypres before there was a second.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The brothers, the lieutenant of engineers
+and the infantry private, had dinner at a
+restaurant where there were shaded candles
+and music; then they went to a theater.
+Although the war was now only a year old,
+London had already grown accustomed to
+the &quot;gentleman ranker.&quot; Brothers, cousins
+and even sons of officers in the little old
+army were now private soldiers and noncommissioned
+officers in the big new army.
+The uniform was the great thing. Rank
+badges denoted differences of degree, not
+of kind. So Lieut. Henry Starkley and
+Private Dick Starkley, together at their
+little luxurious table for two and later elbow
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page66" id="page66"></a>[pg&nbsp;66]</span>
+to elbow at the theater, did not cause
+comment. Immediately after breakfast the
+next morning Henry rang up the Mayfair
+number. A voice of inquiring deference,
+a voice that suggested great circumspection
+and extreme polish, answered him. Henry
+asked for Mr. Starkley-Davenport.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You want the captain, sir,&quot; corrected
+the voice. &quot;Mr. David was killed at
+Ypres in &#39;14. What name, sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Starkley,&quot; replied Henry.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Of Canada, sir? Of Beaver Dam?
+Here is the captain, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Another voice sounded in Henry&#39;s ear,
+asking whether it was Henry Starkley of the
+sappers on the other end of the line.
+Henry replied in the affirmative.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It is Jack Davenport speaking&mdash;Starkley-Davenport,&quot;
+continued the voice.
+&quot;Glad you have my letters at last. Are
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page67" id="page67"></a>[pg&nbsp;67]</span>
+you at the same hotel? Can you wait there
+half an hour for me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll wait,&quot; said Henry.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He and Dick awaited the arrival of the
+grandson of Richard Starkley with lively
+curiosity. That he was a captain, and that
+some one connected with him, perhaps a
+brother, had been killed at Ypres in 1914,
+added considerable interest to him in their
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Size him up before trying any of your
+old-soldier airs on him, young fellow,&quot;
+warned Henry.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They sat in the lounge of the hotel and
+kept a sharp watch on everyone who entered
+by the revolving doors. It was a quiet
+place, as hotels go in London, but during the
+half hour of their watching more people
+than the entire population of Beaver Dam
+were presented to their scrutiny. At last
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page68" id="page68"></a>[pg&nbsp;68]</span>
+a pale young fellow in a Panama hat and
+a gray-flannel suit entered. Under his left
+shoulder was a crutch and in his right hand
+a big, rubber-shod stick. His left knee
+was bent, and his left foot swung clear of
+the ground. His hands were gloved in
+gray, and he wore a smoke-blue flower in
+his buttonhole. Only his necktie was out
+of tone with the rest of his equipment: it
+was in stripes of blue and red and yellow.
+Behind him, close to his elbow, came a thin,
+elderly man who was dressed in black.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Lieut. Starkley?&quot; he inquired of the
+hall porter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At that Henry and Dick both sprang to
+their feet and went across to the man in
+gray. Before they could introduce themselves
+the young stranger edged himself
+against his elderly companion, thus making
+a prop of him, hooked the crook of his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page69" id="page69"></a>[pg&nbsp;69]</span>
+stick into a side pocket of his coat, and extended
+his right hand to Henry. He did
+it all so swiftly and smoothly that it almost
+escaped notice; and, pitiful as it was, it
+almost escaped pity.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Will you lunch with me&mdash;if you have
+nothing better to do?&quot; he asked. &quot;You&#39;re
+on leave, I know, and it sounds cheek to
+ask&mdash;but I want to talk to you about something
+rather important.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Of course&mdash;and here is my young
+brother,&quot; said Henry.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The captain shook hands with Dick and
+then stared at him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You are only a boy,&quot; he said; and then,
+seeing the blood mount to Dick&#39;s tanned
+cheeks, he continued, &quot;and all the better
+for that, perhaps. The nippiest man in
+my platoon was only nineteen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Of course you remember, sir, Mr. David
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page70" id="page70"></a>[pg&nbsp;70]</span>
+had not attained his twentieth birthday,&quot;
+the elderly man in black reminded him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You are right, Wilson,&quot; said the captain.
+&quot;Hit in October, &#39;14. He was my
+young brother. There were just the two of
+us. Shall we toddle along? I kept my
+taxi.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Capt. J. A. Starkley-Davenport occupied
+three rooms and a bath in his own house,
+which was a big one in a desirable part of
+town. The remaining rooms were occupied
+by his servants. And such servants!</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The cook was so poor a performer that
+whenever the captain had guests for luncheon
+or dinner she sent out to a big hotel
+near by for the more important dishes&mdash;but
+her husband had been killed in Flanders,
+and her three sons were still in the field.
+Wilson, who had been Jack&#39;s father&#39;s color
+sergeant in South Africa, was the valet.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page71" id="page71"></a>[pg&nbsp;71]</span>
+The butler was a one-armed man of forty-five
+years who had served as a company
+sergeant major in the early days of the war;
+in rallying half a dozen survivors of his
+company he had got his arm in the way of
+a chunk of high-explosive shell and had
+decorated his chest with the Distinguished
+Conduct Medal. He had only the vaguest
+notions what his duties as butler required
+of him but occupied his time in arguing the
+delicate question of seniority with Wilson
+and the coachman and making frequent
+reports to the captain.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The coachman, who had served forty
+years in the navy, most of the time as chief
+petty officer, claimed seniority of the butler
+and Wilson on the grounds of belonging
+to the senior service. But the ex-sergeants
+argued that the captain&#39;s house was as much
+a bit of the army as brigade headquarters
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page72" id="page72"></a>[pg&nbsp;72]</span>
+in France, and that the polite thing for any
+sailorman to do who found a home there
+was to forget all about seniority; and that
+for their part they did not believe the British
+navy was older than the British army.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Captain Starkley-Davenport introduced
+into this household his cousins from Beaver
+Dam, without apologies and with only a
+few words of explanation. In spite of the
+butler&#39;s protests, the valet and the coachman
+intruded themselves on the luncheon
+party, pretending to wait on table, but in
+reality satisfying their curiosity concerning
+the military gentlemen from Canada
+whose name was the front half of the captain&#39;s
+name. They paused frequently in
+their light duties round the table and
+frankly gave ear to the conversation. Their
+glances went from face to face with childish
+eagerness, intent on each speaker in turn.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page73" id="page73"></a>[pg&nbsp;73]</span>
+The captain did not mind, for he was accustomed
+to their ways and their devouring
+interest in him; Henry was puzzled at
+first and then amused; and Dick was highly
+flattered.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;There isn&#39;t anyone of our blood in our
+regiment now, and that is what I particularly
+want to talk to you chaps about,&quot;
+said the captain, after a little talk on general
+subjects. &quot;My father and young
+brother are gone, and the chances are that
+I won&#39;t get back. But the interests of the
+regiment are still mine&mdash;and I want the
+family to continue to have a stake in it.
+No use asking you to transfer, Henry, I
+can see that; you are a sapper and already
+proved in the field, and I know how sappers
+feel about their job; but Dick&#39;s an
+infantryman. What d&#39;you say to transfer
+and promotion, Dick? You can get your
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page74" id="page74"></a>[pg&nbsp;74]</span>
+commission in one of our new battalions as
+easy as kiss. It will help you and the old
+regiment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;But perhaps I shouldn&#39;t make a good
+officer,&quot; replied Dick. &quot;I&#39;ve never been
+in action, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Don&#39;t worry about that. I&#39;ll answer for
+your quality. You wouldn&#39;t have enlisted
+if the right stuff wasn&#39;t in you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;But I&#39;d like to prove it, first&mdash;although
+I&#39;d like to be an officer mighty well. That&#39;s
+what I intend to be some day. I think I&#39;ll
+stick to the 26th a while. That would be
+fairer&mdash;and I&#39;d feel better satisfied, if ever
+I won a commission, to have it in my own
+outfit. Frank Sacobie would feel sore if I
+left him, before we&#39;d ever been in France
+together, to be an officer in another outfit.
+But there is Peter. He is a corporal already
+and a mighty good soldier.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page75" id="page75"></a>[pg&nbsp;75]</span>
+He told all about Peter and the queer
+way he was wounded back in Canada and
+then all about his friend, Frank Sacobie.
+The captain and the three attendants
+listened with interest. The captain asked
+many questions; and the butler, the valet
+and the coachman were on the point of doing
+the same many times.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">After luncheon Wilson, the elderly valet,
+took command gently but firmly and led
+the captain off to bed. The brothers left
+the addresses of themselves and Peter with
+the captain and promised to call at every
+opportunity and to bring Sacobie to see him
+at the first chance.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick and Frank Sacobie continued their
+training, and in July Dick got his first
+stripe. A few members of the battalion
+went to the hospital, and a few were returned
+to Canada for one reason or another.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page76" id="page76"></a>[pg&nbsp;76]</span>
+In August a little draft of men fresh from
+Canada came to the battalion.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">One of the new men kept inquiring so
+persistently for Corp. Peter Starkley that
+in the course of time he was passed along
+to Dick, who told him about Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;m downright sorry to hear that,&quot; said
+the new arrival. &quot;I saw him in Mr. Hammond&#39;s
+store one day and took a shine to
+him, but as you&#39;re his own brother I guess
+I&#39;m in the right outfit. Hiram Sill is my
+name.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They shook hands cordially.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;m an American citizen and not so
+young as I used to be,&quot; continued Sill, &quot;but
+the minute this war started I knew I&#39;d be
+into it before long. Soldiering is a business
+now, and I am a business man. So
+it looked to me as if I were needed&mdash;as if
+the energy I was expending in selling boots
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page77" id="page77"></a>[pg&nbsp;77]</span>
+and shoes for Maddock &amp; Co. would count
+some if turned against the Kaiser. So I
+swore an oath to fight King George&#39;s enemies,
+and I guess I&#39;ve made no mistake in
+that. King George and Hiram Sill see
+eye to eye and tooth to tooth in this war
+like two coons at a watermelon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">In spite of the fact that Mr. Scammell&#39;s
+platoon was already up to strength, Sill
+worked his way into it.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He had a very good reason for wanting
+to be in that particular platoon, and there
+were men already in it who had no particular
+reason for remaining in it instead of
+going to some other platoon; so&mdash;as Sill
+very justly remarked to Dick, to Sacobie, to
+Sergt. Hammer, to Lieut. Scammell and to
+Capt. Long&mdash;he did not see why he could
+not be where he wanted to be. Friendship
+for Frank Sacobie and Dick Starkley and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page78" id="page78"></a>[pg&nbsp;78]</span>
+admiration for Sergt. Hammer and Lieut.
+Scammell were the reasons he gave for
+wanting to be in that platoon.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He seems a friendly chap,&quot; said the
+adjutant to Mr. Scammell. &quot;Will you
+take him? If so, you can let the Smith
+with the red head go over to Number
+Three, where he will be with a whole grist
+of lads from his own part of the country.
+What d&#39;ye say? He looks smart and willing
+to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Sure I&#39;ll take him,&quot; said Mr. Scammell.
+&quot;He says he admires me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">So Hiram Sill became a member of
+Number Two Platoon. He worked with
+the energy of a tiger and with the good
+nature of a lamb. He talked a great deal,
+but always with a view to acquiring or imparting
+knowledge. When he found that
+his military duties and the cultivation of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page79" id="page79"></a>[pg&nbsp;79]</span>
+friendships did not use up all his time and
+energy, he set himself to the task of ascertaining
+how many Americans were enrolled
+in the First and Second Canadian divisions.
+Then indeed he became a busy man; and
+still his cry continued to be that soldiering
+was a business.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page80" id="page80"></a>[pg&nbsp;80]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chIV" id="chIV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br />
+<small>PRIVATE SILL ACTS</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">ON the night of September 15, 1915,
+the brigade of which the 26th Battalion
+was a unit crossed from
+Folkstone to Boulogne without accident.
+All the ranks were in the highest spirits,
+fondly imagining that the dull routine of
+training was dead forever and that the practice
+of actual warfare was as entertaining
+as dangerous.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The brigade moved up by way of the
+fine old city of Saint Omer and the big
+Flemish town of Hazebrouck. By the
+fourth day after landing in France the
+whole brigade was established in the forward
+area of operations, along with the
+other brigades of the new division. On
+the night of the 19th the battalion marched
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page81" id="page81"></a>[pg&nbsp;81]</span>
+up and went into hutments and billets close
+behind the Kemmel front. That night,
+from the hill above their huts, the men from
+New Brunswick beheld for the first time
+that fixed, fire-pulsing line beyond which
+lay the menace of Germany.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The battalion went in under cover of
+darkness, and by midnight had taken over
+from the former defenders the headquarters
+of companies, the dugouts in the support
+trenches and the sentry posts in the fire
+trench. There were Dick Starkley and his
+comrades holding back the Huns from the
+throat of civilization. It was an amazing
+and inspiring position to be in for the first
+time. In front of them, just beneath and
+behind the soaring and falling star shells
+and Very lights, crouched the most ruthless
+and powerful armies of the world.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">To the right and left, every now and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page82" id="page82"></a>[pg&nbsp;82]</span>
+then, machine guns broke forth in swift,
+rapping fire. When the fire was from the
+positions opposite, the bullets snapped in the
+air like the crackings of a whip. The
+white stars went up and down. Great guns
+thumped occasionally; now and then a high
+shell whined overhead; now and then the
+burst of an exploding shell sounded before
+or behind. It was a quiet night; but to the
+new battalion it was full of thrills. The
+sentries never took their eyes from the mysterious
+region beyond their wire. Every
+blob of blackness beyond their defenses set
+their pulses racing and sent their hands to
+their weapons.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick Starkley and Frank Sacobie stood
+shoulder to shoulder on the fire step for
+hours, staring with all their eyes and listening
+with all their ears. Hiram Sill sat at
+their feet and talked about how he felt on
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page83" id="page83"></a>[pg&nbsp;83]</span>
+this very particular occasion. His friends
+paid no attention to him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;This is the proudest moment of my life,&quot;
+he said. &quot;We are historic figures, boys&mdash;and
+that&#39;s a thing I never hoped to be. In
+my humble way, I stand for more than
+George Washington did. This is a bigger
+war than George ever dreamed of, and I
+have a bigger and better reason for fighting
+the Huns than Gen. Washington ever
+had for fighting the fool Britishers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Did you see that?&quot; asked Dick of Sacobie.
+&quot;Over in the edge of their wire.
+There! Look quick now! Is it a man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Looks like a man, but it&#39;s been there
+right along and ain&#39;t moved yet,&quot; said
+Frank. &quot;Maybe it&#39;s a stump.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Just then Lieut. Scammell came along.
+He got up on the fire step and, directed by
+Dick, trained his glass on the black thing
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page84" id="page84"></a>[pg&nbsp;84]</span>
+in the edge of the enemy&#39;s wire. A German
+star shell gave him light.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That&#39;s a German&mdash;a dead one,&quot; he said.
+&quot;I&#39;ve been told about him. There was a
+bit of a scrap over there three nights ago,
+and that is one of the scrappers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram forgot about Gen. Washington
+and mounted the fire step to have a look.
+He borrowed the officer&#39;s glass for the purpose.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Do his friends intend to leave him out
+there much longer, sir?&quot; he asked. &quot;If
+they do, it&#39;s a sure sign of weakness.
+They&#39;re scart.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;They are scart, right enough&mdash;but I
+bet they wouldn&#39;t be if they knew this bit
+of trench was being held now by a green
+battalion,&quot; replied Mr. Scammell. &quot;They&#39;d
+be over for identifications if they knew.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Let them come!&quot; exclaimed Private
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page85" id="page85"></a>[pg&nbsp;85]</span>
+Sill. &quot;I bet a dollar they wouldn&#39;t stay to
+breakfast&mdash;except a few who wouldn&#39;t want
+any.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At that moment a rifle cracked to the
+right of them, evidently from their own
+trench and not more than one hundred yards
+away. It was followed close by a spatter
+of shots, then the smashing bursts of grenades,
+more musketry and the <i>rat-tat-tat</i> of
+several machine guns. Bullets snapped in
+the air. Lights trailed up from both lines.
+Dull thumps sounded far away, and then
+came the whining songs of high-flying
+shells. Flashes of fire astonished the eye,
+and crashing reports stunned the ear.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;They&#39;re at us!&quot; exclaimed the lieutenant.
+&quot;Open fire on the parapet opposite, unless
+you see a better target, and don&#39;t leave
+your posts. Keep low. Better use the
+loopholes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page86" id="page86"></a>[pg&nbsp;86]</span>
+He left the fire step and ran along the
+duck boards toward the heart of the row.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick and Frank Sacobie and Hiram
+Sill, firing rapidly through the loopholes,
+added what they could to the disturbance.
+Now and again a bullet rang against the
+steel plate of a loophole. One or another
+of them took frequent observations through
+a periscope, for at that time the Canadian
+troops were not yet supplied with shrapnel
+helmets. Dave Hammer, breathless with
+excitement, joined them for a few seconds.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;They tried to jump us,&mdash;must have
+learned we&#39;re a green relief,&mdash;but we&#39;ve
+chewed them up for fair!&quot; he gasped.
+&quot;Must have been near a hundred of &#39;em&mdash;but
+not one got through our wire. Keep
+yer heads down for a while, boys; they&#39;re
+traversing our top with emmagees.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At last the enemy&#39;s artillery fire slackened
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page87" id="page87"></a>[pg&nbsp;87]</span>
+and died. Ours drubbed away cheerily
+for another fifteen minutes, then ceased
+as quick and clean as the snap of a finger.
+The rifle fire and machine-gun fire dwindled
+and ceased. Even the up-spurting of
+the white and watchful stars diminished by
+half; but now and again one of them from
+the hostile lines, curving far forward in its
+downward flight, illuminated a dozen or
+more motionless black shapes in and in front
+of our rusty wire. Except for those motionless
+figures No Man&#39;s Land was again deserted.
+The big rats ran there undisturbed.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Sacobie looked over the parapet; Hiram
+Sill and Dick sat on the fire step at the
+Malecite&#39;s feet. They felt as tired as if
+they had been wrestling with strong men
+for half an hour. Dave Hammer came
+along the trench and halted before them.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Those Huns or Fritzes or whatever you
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page88" id="page88"></a>[pg&nbsp;88]</span>
+call them are crazy,&quot; he said. &quot;Did you
+ever hear of such a fool thing as that?
+They&#39;ve left a dozen dead out in front, besides
+what they carried home along with
+their wounded&mdash;and all they did to us was
+wound three of our fellows with that first
+bomb they threw, and two more with
+machine-gun fire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Their officers must be boneheads, for
+sure,&quot; said Hiram. &quot;War&#39;s a business,&mdash;and
+a mighty swift one,&mdash;and you can&#39;t succeed
+in business without knowing something
+about psychology. Yes, gentlemen,
+psychology, queer as it may sound.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Sounds mighty queer to me!&quot; muttered
+Sacobie, glancing down.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You must study men,&quot; continued Private
+Sill, not at all abashed, &quot;their souls and
+hearts and minds&mdash;if you want to make a
+success at anything except bee farming.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page89" id="page89"></a>[pg&nbsp;89]</span>
+Now, take this fool raid of the Huns. They
+were smart enough to find out that a bunch
+of greenhorns took over this trench to-night.
+So they thought they&#39;d surprise us. Now,
+if they&#39;d known anything about psychology,
+they&#39;d have known that just because we
+were new and green we&#39;d all be on our
+toes to-night, with our eyes sticking out a
+yard and our ears buttoned right back.
+Sure! Every man of us was on sentry duty
+to-night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I guess you&#39;ve got the right idea, Old
+Psychology,&quot; said the sergeant.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The 26th spent five days in the line on
+that tour. With the exception of one day
+and night of rain they had fine weather.
+They mended their wire and did a fair
+amount of business in No Man&#39;s Land.
+The enemy attempted no further raids; his
+last effort had evidently given him more information
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page90" id="page90"></a>[pg&nbsp;90]</span>
+concerning the quality of the
+new battalion than he could digest in
+a week. At any rate he kept very
+quiet.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At the end of the tour the battalion went
+back a little way to huts on the bushy flanks
+of Scherpenberg, where they &quot;rested&quot; by
+performing squad, platoon and company
+drill and innumerable fatigues. The time
+remaining at their disposal was devoted to
+football and base-ball and investigations of
+villages and farmsteads in the neighborhood.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Their second tour in was more lively and
+less comfortable than the first. Under the
+drench of rain and the gnawing of dank
+and chilly mists their trenches and all the
+surrounding landscape were changed from
+dry earth to mud. Everything in the front
+line, including their persons, became caked
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page91" id="page91"></a>[pg&nbsp;91]</span>
+with mud. The duck boards became a
+chain of slippery traps; and in low trenches
+they floated like rafts. The parapets slid
+in and required constant attention; and what
+the water left undone in the way of destruction
+the guns across the way tried to finish.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">It was hard on the spirit of new troops;
+they were toughened to severe work and
+rough living, but not to the deadening mud
+of a front-line trench in low ground. So
+their officers planned excitement for them,
+to keep the fire of interest alive in their
+hearts. That excitement was obtained in
+several ways, but always by a move of some
+sort against the enemy or his defenses.
+Patrol work was the most popular form of
+relief from muddy inaction. Lieut. Scammell
+quickly developed a skill in that and
+an appetite for it that soon drew the colonel&#39;s
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page92" id="page92"></a>[pg&nbsp;92]</span>
+attention to himself and his followers.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent">By the end of September, even the medical
+officers of New Brunswick had to admit
+that Corp. Peter Starkley was fully recovered
+from his wound. As for Peter himself,
+he affirmed that he had not felt anything
+of it for the past two months. He had
+worked at the haying and the harvesting on
+Beaver Dam and his own place without
+so much as a twinge of pain.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter returned to his military duties
+eagerly, but inspired only by his sense of
+duty. His heart was more than ever in his
+own countryside; but despite his natural
+modesty he knew that he was useful to his
+king and country as a noncommissioned
+officer, and with that knowledge he fortified
+his heart. He tried to tell Vivia Hammond
+something of what he felt. His words
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page93" id="page93"></a>[pg&nbsp;93]</span>
+were stumbling and inadequate, but she
+understood him. And at the last he said:</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Vivia, don&#39;t forget me, for I shall be
+thinking of you always&mdash;more than of anyone
+or anything in the world.&quot; And then,
+not trusting his voice for more, he kissed
+her hastily.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Vivia wept and made no attempt to hide
+her tears or the reason for them.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Shortly before Peter&#39;s return to the army
+he had received a letter from Capt. Starkley-Davenport,
+telling of the reunion of
+the cousins in London and virtually offering
+him a commission in the writer&#39;s old
+regiment. Peter had also heard something
+of the plan from Dick a few days before.
+He answered the captain&#39;s letter
+promptly and frankly, to the effect that he
+had no military ambition beyond that of
+doing his duty to the full extent of his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page94" id="page94"></a>[pg&nbsp;94]</span>
+power against Germany, and that a commission
+in an English regiment was an
+honor he could accept only if it should
+come to him unavoidably, in the day&#39;s
+work.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter reached England in the third week
+of October and with three hundred companions
+fresh from Canada was attached to
+a reserve battalion on St. Martin&#39;s Plain
+for duty and instruction. Peter was given
+the acting rank of sergeant. Early in
+December he crossed to France and reached
+his battalion without accident. He found
+that the 26th had experienced its full share
+of the fortunes and misfortunes of war.
+Scores of familiar faces were gone. His
+old platoon had suffered many changes
+since he had left it in St. John a year ago.
+Its commander, a Lieut. Smith, was an entire
+stranger to him, and he had known the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page95" id="page95"></a>[pg&nbsp;95]</span>
+platoon sergeant as a private. Mr. Scammell
+was now scout officer and expecting
+his third star at any moment. Dave Hammer,
+still a sergeant, and Dick, Sacobie and
+Hiram Sill also were scouts. Dick, was a
+corporal now and had never been touched
+by shot, shell or sickness. Sacobie had been
+slightly wounded and had been away at a
+field ambulance for a week.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter rejoined his old platoon and, as it
+was largely composed at this time of new
+troops, was permitted to retain his acting
+rank of sergeant. He performed his duties
+so satisfactorily that he was confirmed
+in his rank after his first tour in
+the trenches.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On the third night of Peter&#39;s second tour
+in the front line, Dave Hammer, Dick and
+Frank Sacobie took him out to show him
+about. All carried bombs, and Sergt.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page96" id="page96"></a>[pg&nbsp;96]</span>
+Hammer had a pistol as well. They were
+hoping to surprise a party of Germans at
+work mending their wire.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hammer slipped over the parapet. Peter
+followed him. Dick and Sacobie went
+over together, quick as the wink of an eye.
+Their faces and hands were black. With
+Dave Hammer in the lead, Peter at the
+very soles of his spiked boots and Dick and
+Sacobie elbow to elbow behind Peter, they
+crawled out through their own wire by the
+way of an intricate channel. When a star
+shell went up in front, near enough to light
+that particular area, they lay motionless.
+They went forward during the brief periods
+of darkness and half light.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At last they got near enough to the German
+wire to see it plainly, and the leader
+changed his course to the left. When they
+lay perfectly still they could hear many
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page97" id="page97"></a>[pg&nbsp;97]</span>
+faint, vague sounds in every direction: far,
+dull thuds before and behind them, spatters
+of rifle fire far off to the right and left, the
+bang of a Very pistol somewhere behind
+a parapet and now and then the crash of
+a bursting shell.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">A few minutes later Dave twisted about
+and laid a hand on Peter&#39;s shoulder. He
+gave it a gentle pull. Peter crawled up
+abreast of him. Dave put his lips to Peter&#39;s
+ear and whispered:</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;There they are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">A twisty movement of his right foot had
+already signaled the same information to
+the veterans in the rear. Peter stared at
+the blotches of darkness that Dave had indicated.
+They did not move often or
+quickly and kept close to the ground.
+Sometimes, when a light was up, they became
+motionless and instantly melted from
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page98" id="page98"></a>[pg&nbsp;98]</span>
+view, merging into the shadows of the night
+and the tangled wire. Now and then Peter
+heard some faint sound of their labor, as
+they worked at the wire.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Only five of them,&quot; whispered the scout
+sergeant. &quot;They are scared blue. Bet
+their skunks of officers had to kick them
+out of the trench. Let&#39;s sheer off a few
+yards and give &#39;em something to be scared
+about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Just then Dick and Frank squirmed up
+beside them.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Some more straight ahead of us,&quot;
+breathed the Indian. &quot;Three or four.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hammer used his glass and saw that Sacobie&#39;s
+eyes had not fooled him. He
+touched each of his companions to assure
+himself of their attention, then twisted sharp
+to the left, back toward their own line, and
+crawled away. They followed. After he
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page99" id="page99"></a>[pg&nbsp;99]</span>
+had covered about ten yards, Dave turned
+end for end in his muddy trail, and the
+others came up to him and turned beside
+him. They saw that the wiring party and
+the patrol had joined.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Spread a bit,&quot; whispered Dave. &quot;I&#39;ll
+chuck one at &#39;em, and when it busts you
+fellows let fly and then beat it back for the
+hole in our wire. Take cover if the emmagees
+get busy. I&#39;ll be right behind
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They moved a few paces to the right and
+left. Peter&#39;s lips felt dry, and he wanted
+to sneeze. He took a plump, cold, heavy
+little grenade in his muddy right hand. A
+few breathless, slow seconds passed and
+then <i>smash!</i> went Dave&#39;s bomb over against
+the Hun wire. Then Peter stood up and
+threw&mdash;and three bombs exploded like one.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Turning, Peter slithered along on all
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page100" id="page100"></a>[pg&nbsp;100]</span>
+fours after Dick and Sacobie. The startled
+Huns lighted up their front as if for a
+national fęte; but Peter chanced it and kept
+on going. A shrapnel shell exploded overhead
+with a terrific sound, and the fat bullets
+spattered in the mud all round him.
+He came to another and larger crater and
+was about to skirt it when a familiar voice
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Come in here, you idiot!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">There was Dick and Frank Sacobie
+standing hip-deep in the mud and water at
+the bottom of the hole. Peter joined them
+with a few bushels of mud. A whiz-bang
+whizzed and banged red near-by, and
+the three ducked and knocked their
+heads together. The water was bitterly
+cold.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Did you think you were on your way
+to the barns to milk?&quot; asked Dick. &quot;Don&#39;t
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page101" id="page101"></a>[pg&nbsp;101]</span>
+you know the machine guns are combing
+the ground?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll remember,&quot; said Peter. &quot;New
+work to me, and I guess I was a bit flustered.
+I wonder where Dave Hammer has
+got himself to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Some hole or other, sure,&quot; said Sacobie.
+&quot;Don&#39;t worry &#39;bout Dave. He put three
+bombs into them. I counted the busts.
+Fritz will quiet down in a few minutes, I
+guess, and let us out of here&mdash;if our fellows
+don&#39;t get gay and start all the artillery
+shootin&#39; off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Our fellows did not get gay, our artillery
+refrained from shooting off, and soon the
+enemy ceased his frenzied musketry and
+machine gunning and bombing of his own
+wire and the harmless mud beyond. So
+Peter and Dick and Sacobie left their wet
+retreat and crawled for home. They found
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page102" id="page102"></a>[pg&nbsp;102]</span>
+Sergt. Hammer waiting for them at the hole
+in the wire. He had already given the
+word to the sentry; and so they made the
+passage of the wire and popped into the
+trench. Hammer reported to Mr. Scammell,
+who was all ready to go out with another
+patrol; and then the four went back
+to their dugout in the support trench, devoured
+a mess of potatoes and onions, drank
+a few mugs of tea and retired to their blankets,
+mud and putties and all.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">That was the night of the 3d of December.
+In the battalion&#39;s summary of
+intelligence to the brigade it read like
+this:</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Night of 23d-24th, our patrols active.
+Small patrol of four, under 106254 Sgt. D.
+Hammer, encountered ten of the enemy in
+front of the German wire. Bombs were
+exchanged and six of the enemy were killed
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page103" id="page103"></a>[pg&nbsp;103]</span>
+or wounded. Our patrol returned. 2.30
+<span class="smcap">a. m.</span> Lieut. Scammell placed tube in hostile
+wire which exploded successfully. No
+casualties.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The next day passed quietly, with a pale
+glimmer of sunshine now and then, and between
+glimmers a flurry of moist snow.
+The Germans shouted friendly messages
+across No Man&#39;s Land and suggested a complete
+cessation of hostilities for the day and
+the morrow. The Canadians replied that
+the next Fritz who cut any &quot;love-your-enemy&quot;
+capers on the parapet would get what
+he deserved.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Peace on earth!&quot; exclaimed the colonel
+of the 26th. &quot;They are the people to ask
+for it, the murderers! No, this is a war
+with a reason&mdash;and we shoot on Christmas
+Eve just as quick as on any other
+day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page104" id="page104"></a>[pg&nbsp;104]</span>
+The day passed quietly. Soon after sunset
+Mr. Scammell sent two of his scouts
+out to watch the gap in the German wire
+that he had blown with his explosive tube.
+They returned at ten o&#39;clock and reported
+that the enemy had made no attempt to
+mend the gap. The night was misty and
+the enemy&#39;s illumination a little above normal.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At eleven o&#39;clock Lieut. Scammell went
+out himself, accompanied by Lieut. Harvey
+and nine men. They reached the gap in
+the enemy wire without being discovered,
+and there they separated. Mr. Harvey and
+two others moved along the front of the
+wire to the left, and a sergeant and one man
+went to the right. Mr. Scammell and his
+five men passed through the wire and extended
+a few yards to the left, close under
+the hostile parapet.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page105" id="page105"></a>[pg&nbsp;105]</span>
+The officer stood up, close against the
+wet sandbags. Dave Hammer, Dick, Peter,
+Hiram Sill and Sacobie followed his
+example.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Then, all together, they tossed six bombs
+into the trench. The shattering bangs of
+six more blended with the bangs of the
+first volley. From right and left along the
+trench sounded other explosions.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Obeying their officer&#39;s instructions,
+Scammell&#39;s men made the return journey
+through the wire and struck out for home
+at top speed, trusting to the mist to hide
+their movements from the foe.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Scammell rid himself of three more
+bombs and then followed his party. The
+white mist swallowed them. The bombers
+ran, stumbled and ran again, eager to reach
+the shelter of their own parapet before the
+shaken enemy should recover and begin
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page106" id="page106"></a>[pg&nbsp;106]</span>
+sweeping the ground with his machine
+guns.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Sacobie and Dick were the first to get into
+the trench. Then came Sergt. Hammer
+and Lieut. Scammell, followed close by
+Lieut. Harvey and his party. By that
+time the German machine guns were going
+full blast.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Are Sergt. Starkley and Private Sill
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Don&#39;t see either of &#39;em, sir,&quot; Sergt.
+Hammer said in reply to Mr. Scammell&#39;s
+question.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Perhaps they got here before any of us
+and beat it for their dugout,&quot; said Mr.
+Scammell. &quot;Dick, you go along the trench
+and have a look for them. If they aren&#39;t
+in, come back and report to me. Wait
+right here for me, mind you&mdash;on <i>this</i> side
+of the parapet. Get that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page107" id="page107"></a>[pg&nbsp;107]</span>
+Then the officer spoke a few hurried
+words to Sergt. Hammer, a few to the sentry,
+and went over the sandbags like a snake.
+Hammer went out of the trench at the same
+moment; and Frank Sacobie took one
+glance at the sentry and followed Hammer
+like a shadow. The mist lay close and
+cold and almost as wet as rain over that
+puddled waste.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Mr. Scammell found Peter and Hiram
+about ten yards in front of the gap in our
+wire; the private was unhurt and the sergeant
+unconscious. Sill had his tall friend
+on his back and was crawling laboriously
+homeward.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Whiz-bang,&quot; he informed Mr. Scammell.
+&quot;It got Pete bad, in the leg. I heard
+him grunt and soon found him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They regained the trench, picking up
+Hammer on the way, and sent Peter out on
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page108" id="page108"></a>[pg&nbsp;108]</span>
+a stretcher. Sacobie came in at their heels;
+and no one knew that he had gone out to
+the rescue.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">That happened on Christmas morning.
+Before night the doctors cut off what little
+had been left below the knee of Peter&#39;s right
+leg.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page109" id="page109"></a>[pg&nbsp;109]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chV" id="chV"></a>CHAPTER V<br />
+<small>PETER&#39;S ROOM IS AGAIN OCCUPIED</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">LIFE was very dull round Beaver
+Dam after Peter had gone away.
+John and Constance Starkley and
+Flora and Emma felt that every room of
+the old house was so full of memories of
+the three boys that they could not think of
+anything else. John Starkley worked early
+and late, but a sense of numbness was always
+at his heart. There were times when
+he glowed with pride and even when he
+flamed with anger, but he was always conscious
+of the weight on his heart. His
+grief was partly for his wife&#39;s grief.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He awoke suddenly very early one morning
+and heard his wife sobbing quietly.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page110" id="page110"></a>[pg&nbsp;110]</span>
+That had happened several times before,
+and sometimes she had been asleep and at
+other times awake. Now she was asleep,
+lonely for her boys even in her dreams.
+He thought of waking her; and then he reflected
+that, if awake, she would hide her
+tears, which now perhaps were giving her
+some comfort in her dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">But he could not find his own sleep again.
+He lighted a candle, put on a few clothes
+and went downstairs to the sitting room.
+There were books everywhere, of all sorts,
+in that comfortable and shabby room. The
+brown wooden clock on the shelf above the
+old Franklin stove ticked drearily. It
+marked ten minutes past two. Mr. Starkley
+dipped into a volume of Charles Lever
+and wondered why he had ever laughed at
+its impossible anecdotes and pasteboard love
+scenes. He tried a report of the New
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page111" id="page111"></a>[pg&nbsp;111]</span>
+Brunswick Agricultural Society and found
+that equally dry. A flyleaf of Treasure Island
+held his attention, for on it was penned
+in a round hand, &quot;Flora with Dick&#39;s love,
+Christmas, 1914.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He was only a boy then,&quot; murmured
+the father. &quot;Less than a year ago he was
+only a boy, and now he is a man, knowing
+hate and horror and fatigue&mdash;a man fighting
+for his life. They are all boys! Henry
+and Peter&mdash;Peter with his grand farm and
+fast mares, and his eyes like Connie&#39;s.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">John Starkley got out of his chair, trembling
+as if with cold. He walked round
+the room, clasping his hands before him.
+Then he took the candle from the table and
+held it up to the shelf above the stove.
+There stood photographs of his boys, in
+uniform. He held the little flame close to
+each photograph in turn.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page112" id="page112"></a>[pg&nbsp;112]</span>
+&quot;Three sons,&quot; he said. &quot;Three good sons&mdash;and
+not one here now!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">A cautious rat-tat on the glass of one of
+the windows brought him out of his reveries
+with a start. He went to the window
+without a moment&#39;s hesitation, held the
+candle high and saw a face looking in at
+him that he did not recognize for a moment.
+It was a frightened and shamed
+face. The eyes met his for a fraction
+of a second and then shifted their
+glance.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;James Hammond!&quot; exclaimed Mr.
+Starkley. &quot;Of all people!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He set the candle on the table and pushed
+up the lower sash of the window, letting in
+a gust of cold wind that extinguished the
+light behind him. He could see the bulk
+of his untimely visitor against the vague
+starlight.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page113" id="page113"></a>[pg&nbsp;113]</span>
+&quot;Come in, James,&quot; he said. &quot;By the
+window or the door, as you like.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Thank you, Mr. Starkley,&quot; said Hammond
+in guarded tones. &quot;The window
+will do. No strangers about, I suppose?
+Just the family?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Only my wife and daughters,&quot; replied
+the farmer, and turned to relight the candle.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim Hammond got quickly across the
+sill, pulled the sash down, and after it the
+green-linen shade. He stood near the wall,
+twirling his hat in his hand and shuffling
+his feet. When Mr. Starkley turned to
+him, he swallowed hard, glanced up and
+then as swiftly down again.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Queer time to make a call,&quot; said Hammond
+at last. &quot;Near three o&#39;clock, Mr.
+Starkley. I was glad to see your light at
+the window. I was scared to tap on the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page114" id="page114"></a>[pg&nbsp;114]</span>
+window, at first, for fear you&#39;d send me
+away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Send you away?&quot; queried the farmer.
+&quot;Why did you fear that, Jim? You, or any
+other friend, are welcome at this house at
+any hour of the day or night. But I must
+admit that your visit has taken me by surprise.
+I thought you were far away from
+this peaceful and lonely country, my boy&mdash;far
+away in Flanders.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The blood flushed over Jim&#39;s face, and
+he stared at the farmer.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You thought I was in Flanders,&quot; he said.
+&quot;In Flanders&mdash;me! So you don&#39;t know
+about me, Mr. Starkley? Peter didn&#39;t
+tell you about me? That&mdash;that&#39;s impossible.
+Don&#39;t you know&mdash;and every one
+else?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I don&#39;t know what you are talking
+about,&quot; replied Mr. Starkley, as he pushed
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page115" id="page115"></a>[pg&nbsp;115]</span>
+Jim into an armchair. &quot;I can see that you
+are tired, however, and in distress of some
+sort. Why are you here, Jim&mdash;and why
+are you not in uniform? Tell me&mdash;and if
+I can help you in any way you may be sure
+that I will. Rest here and I&#39;ll get you
+something to eat. I did not notice at first
+how bad you look, Jim.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Never mind the food!&quot; muttered young
+Hammond. &quot;I&#39;m not hungry, sir&mdash;not to
+matter, that is. But I&#39;m dog-tired. I&#39;ve
+been hiding about in the woods and in people&#39;s
+barns for a long time&mdash;and walking
+miles and miles. I&mdash;you say you don&#39;t
+know&mdash;I am a deserter&mdash;and worse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You didn&#39;t go to France with your regiment?
+You deserted?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I didn&#39;t go anywhere with it. Why
+didn&#39;t Peter tell you? I came home on
+pass&mdash;and gave them the slip. I&mdash;Peter
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page116" id="page116"></a>[pg&nbsp;116]</span>
+was sent here to fetch me back. And he
+didn&#39;t tell you! And you thought I was in
+France! I came here because I was
+ashamed to go home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He suddenly leaned forward in his chair,
+with his elbows on his knees, and covered
+his face with his hands. His shoulders
+shook. John Starkley continued to gaze at
+him in silence for a minute or two, far too
+amazed and upset and bewildered to know
+what to say or do. He felt a great pity for
+the young man, whom he had always known
+as a prosperous and self-confident person.
+To see him thus&mdash;shabby, weary, ashamed
+and reduced to tears&mdash;was a most pitiful
+thing. A deserter! A coward! But even
+so, who was he to judge? Might not his
+sons have been like this, except for the
+mercy of God? Even now any one of his
+boys, or all three of them, might be in great
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page117" id="page117"></a>[pg&nbsp;117]</span>
+need of help and kindness. He went over
+and laid a hand gently on his visitor&#39;s
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I don&#39;t know what you have done,
+exactly, or anything at all of your reason
+for doing it, but you are the son of a friend
+of mine and have been a comrade of one of
+my sons,&quot; he said. &quot;Look upon me as a
+friend, Jim. You say you are a deserter.
+Well, I heard you. It is bad&mdash;but here is
+my hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim Hammond raised his head and looked
+at Mr. Starkley with a tear-stained face.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Do you mean that?&quot; he asked; and at
+the other&#39;s nod he grasped the extended
+hand.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Mr. Starkley asked him no more questions
+then, but brought cold ham from the
+pantry and cider from the cellar and ate
+and drank with him. The visitor&#39;s way
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page118" id="page118"></a>[pg&nbsp;118]</span>
+with the food and drink told its own story
+and sharpened the farmer&#39;s pity. They
+went upstairs on tiptoe.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;This is Peter&#39;s room,&quot; said Mr. Starkley.
+&quot;Sleep sound and as long as you
+please&mdash;till dinner time, if you like. And
+don&#39;t worry, Jim.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The farmer returned to his own room
+and found his wife sleeping quietly. He
+wakened her and told her of young Hammond&#39;s
+visit and all that he knew of his
+story.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I am glad you took him in,&quot; she said.
+&quot;We must help him for our boys&#39; sakes,
+even if he is a deserter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Mr. Starkley, &quot;we must
+help him through his shame and trouble&mdash;and
+then he may right the other matter of
+his own free will. We&#39;ll give him a chance,
+anyway.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page119" id="page119"></a>[pg&nbsp;119]</span>
+It was dinner time when Jim Hammond
+awoke from his sleep of physical and nervous
+exhaustion. He was puzzled to know
+where he was at first, but the memory of
+the night&#39;s adventure came to him, bringing
+both shame and relief. He had no
+watch to tell him the time, and there was
+no clock in the room. He had brought
+nothing with him&mdash;not a watch, or a dollar,
+or a shirt&mdash;nothing except his guilt and
+his shame. He flinched at the thought
+of meeting Mrs. Starkley and the
+girls.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">A knock sounded on the door, and John
+Starkley looked in and wished him good
+morning. &quot;If you get up now, Jim, you&#39;ll
+be in time for dinner,&quot; he said. &quot;Here is
+hot water and a shaving kit&mdash;and a few
+duds of Henry&#39;s and Peter&#39;s you can use if
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page120" id="page120"></a>[pg&nbsp;120]</span>
+you care to. Set your mind at rest about
+the family, Jim. I have told my wife all
+that I know myself, and she feels as I do.
+As for the girls&mdash;well, I will let them know
+as much as is necessary. We mean
+to help you to get on your feet again,
+Jim.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The deserter shaved with care, dressed
+in his own seedy garments and went slowly
+downstairs. He entered the kitchen. Mrs.
+Starkley and Flora were there, busy about
+the midday dinner. They looked up at him
+and smiled as he appeared in the doorway,
+but their eyes and Flora&#39;s quick change of
+color told him of the quality of their pity.
+They would feel the same, he knew, for any
+broken and drunken tramp in the ditch.
+But he was a more despicable thing than
+a drunken tramp. He was a deserter, a
+coward. They knew that of him, for he
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page121" id="page121"></a>[pg&nbsp;121]</span>
+saw it in their eyes that tried to be so frank
+and kind; and that was not the worst of
+him. He could not advance from the
+threshold or meet their glances again.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Mrs. Starkley went to the young man
+quickly and, taking his hand in hers, drew
+him into the room. Flora came forward
+and gave him her hand and said she was
+glad to see him; and then Emma came in
+from the dining room and said, &quot;Hello, Mr.
+Hammond! I hope you can stay here a
+long time; we are very lonely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">His heart was so shaken by those words
+that his tongue was suddenly loosened.
+He looked desperately, imploringly round,
+and his face went red as fire and then white
+as paper.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll stay&mdash;if you&#39;ll let me&mdash;until I pick
+up my nerve again,&quot; he said quickly and
+unsteadily. &quot;Keep me hidden here from
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page122" id="page122"></a>[pg&nbsp;122]</span>
+Stanley and my folks. I&#39;ll work like a nigger.
+I am a deserter, as you all know&mdash;and
+I know that Peter didn&#39;t tell you so. I&#39;d
+do anything for him, after that. I&#39;m a
+runaway soldier, but it wasn&#39;t because I
+was afraid to fight. I&#39;ll show you as soon
+as I&#39;m fit&mdash;I&#39;ll go and fight. It was my
+beastly temper and drink that did for me.
+I&#39;ve been near crazy since. But I&#39;ll show
+you my gratitude some day&mdash;if you give me
+a chance now to work round to feeling something
+like a man again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Flora and Emma were tongue-tied by
+the stress of their emotions. They could
+only gaze at their guest with tear-dimmed
+eyes. But Mrs. Starkley went close to him
+and put a hand on each of his drooped
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Of course, my dear boy,&quot; she said.
+&quot;You are only a boy, Jim, a year or two
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page123" id="page123"></a>[pg&nbsp;123]</span>
+younger than Henry, I think. Trust us to
+help you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">During dinner they talked about the
+country, the war, the weather and the stock&mdash;about
+almost everything but Jim Hammond&#39;s
+affairs.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What do you want me to do this afternoon?&quot;
+asked Jim when the meal was over.
+&quot;I don&#39;t know much about farm work, but
+I can use an axe and can handle horses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I was ploughing this morning; and this
+may be our last day before the frost sets in
+hard,&quot; said Mr. Starkley. &quot;What about
+hitching Peter&#39;s mares to a second plow?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Suit me fine,&quot; said Jim.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">It was a still, bright October afternoon,
+with a glow in the sunshine, a smell of fern
+and leaf in the air and a veil of blue mist on
+the farther hills. Frosts had nipped the
+surface of things lightly a score of times
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page124" id="page124"></a>[pg&nbsp;124]</span>
+but had not yet struck deep. Jim Hammond,
+in a pair of Peter&#39;s long-legged boots,
+guided a long plough behind Peter&#39;s black
+and sorrel mares. The mares pulled steadily,
+and the bright plough cut smoothly
+through the sod of the old meadow. Over
+against the fir woods on the far side of the
+meadow John Starkley went back and forth
+behind his grays.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim rested frequently at the end of a furrow,
+for he was not in the pink of condition.
+He noticed, for the first time in his
+life, the faint perfume of the turned loam
+and torn grass roots. He liked it. His
+furrows, a little uneven at first, became
+straighter and more even until they were
+soon almost perfect.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">As the red sun was sinking toward the
+western forests, Emma appeared, climbing
+over the rail fence from a grove of young
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page125" id="page125"></a>[pg&nbsp;125]</span>
+red maples. She carried something under
+one arm. She waved a hand to her father
+but came straight to Jim. He stopped the
+mares midway the furrow.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I made these gingernuts myself,&quot; said
+Emma, holding out an uncovered tin box
+to him. &quot;See, they are still hot. Have
+some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He accepted two and found them very
+good. The girl looked over his work admiringly
+and told him she had never seen
+straighter furrows except a few of Peter&#39;s
+ploughing. Then she warned him that in
+half an hour she would blow a horn for
+him to stop and went across to her father
+with what was left of the gingernuts.
+Hammond went on unwinding the old sod
+into straight furrows until the horn blew
+from the house.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">After supper he played cribbage with Mr.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page126" id="page126"></a>[pg&nbsp;126]</span>
+Starkley; and that night he slept soundly
+and without dreaming. He awoke early
+enough to do his share of the feeding and
+milking before breakfast. The ploughs
+worked again that day, but the next night
+brought a frost that held tight.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The days went by peacefully for Jim
+Hammond. He never went on the highway
+or away from Beaver Dam and Peter&#39;s
+place. Sometimes, when people came to
+the house, he sat by himself in his room
+upstairs. He did his share of all the barn
+work, twice a week helped Mrs. Starkley
+and the girls with the churning and cut
+cordwood and fence rails every day. He
+never talked much, but at times his manner
+was almost cheerful. And so the days
+passed and October ran into November.
+Snow came and letters from France and
+England. The family treated him like one
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page127" id="page127"></a>[pg&nbsp;127]</span>
+of themselves, with never a question to embarrass
+him or a word to hurt him. He
+heard news of his family occasionally, but
+never tried to see them.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;They think I am somewhere in the
+States, hiding&mdash;or that&#39;s what father
+thinks,&quot; he said to Flora. &quot;Some day I&#39;ll
+write to mother&mdash;from France.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">December came and Christmas. Jim
+kept house that day while the others drove
+to Stanley and attended the Christmas service
+in the church on the top of the long
+hill. A week later a man in a coonskin
+coat drove up to the kitchen door. Jim
+recognized him through the window as the
+postmaster of Stanley and retired up the
+back stairs. John Starkley, who had
+just come in from the barns, opened the
+door.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;A cablegram for you, Mr. Starkley,&quot;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page128" id="page128"></a>[pg&nbsp;128]</span>
+said the postmaster. &quot;It was wired
+through from Fredericton.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He held out the thin envelope. Mr.
+Starkley stared at it, but did not move.
+His eyes narrowed, and his face looked
+suddenly old.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No call to be afraid of it,&quot; said the
+postmaster, who was also the telegraph
+operator. &quot;I received it and know what&#39;s
+in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Mr. Starkley took it then and tore it
+open.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Peter wounded. Doing fine. Dick
+Starkley&quot; is what he read. He sighed with
+relief and called to Mrs. Starkley and the
+girls. Then he invited the man from Stanley
+in to dinner, saying he would see to the
+horse in a minute.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You can&#39;t expect much better news than
+that from men in France,&quot; John Starkley
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page129" id="page129"></a>[pg&nbsp;129]</span>
+said to his wife. &quot;Wounded and doing
+fine&mdash;why, that&#39;s better than no news, by a
+long shot. He will be safe out of the line
+now for weeks, perhaps for months. Perhaps
+he will even get to England. He is
+safe at this very minute, anyway.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He excused himself, went upstairs and
+told Jim Hammond the news.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That is twice for Peter already,&quot; he
+said, &quot;once right at home and once in
+Flanders. If this one isn&#39;t any worse than
+the first, we have nothing to worry about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I hope it is just bad enough to give him
+a good long rest,&quot; said Jim in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The postmaster stayed to dinner, and
+Emma smuggled roast beef and pudding up
+to Jim in his bedroom. No sooner had
+that visitor gone than another drove up.
+This other was Vivia Hammond; and once
+more Jim retired to his room. Vivia had
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page130" id="page130"></a>[pg&nbsp;130]</span>
+heard of the cablegram, but nothing of its
+import. Her face was white with anxiety.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What is it?&quot; she cried. &quot;The cable&mdash;what
+is it about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Peter is right as rain&mdash;wounded but doing
+fine,&quot; said John.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Vivia cried and then laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I love Peter, and I don&#39;t care who knows
+it!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;I hope he has lost
+a leg, so they&#39;ll have to send him home.
+That sounds dreadful&mdash;but I love him so&mdash;and
+what does a leg matter?&quot; She turned
+to Mrs. Starkley. &quot;Did he ever tell you
+he loved me?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He didn&#39;t have to tell us,&quot; answered
+Mrs. Starkley, smiling.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He does! He does!&quot; exclaimed the
+girl, and then began to cry again; and Jim,
+imprisoned upstairs, wished she would go
+home.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page131" id="page131"></a>[pg&nbsp;131]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chVI" id="chVI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br />
+<small>DAVE HAMMER GETS HIS COMMISSION</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">BY the middle of January, 1916, Peter
+was in London again, now minus
+one leg but otherwise in the pink of
+condition. Davenport, with his crutch and
+stick and shadowing valet, visited him daily
+in hospital. He and Peter wrote letters to
+Beaver Dam&mdash;and Peter wrote a dozen to
+Stanley.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Capt. Starkley-Davenport had power.
+Warbroken and propped between his crutch
+and stick, still he was powerful. A spirit
+big enough to animate three strong men
+glowed in his weak body, and he went after
+the medical officers, nursing sisters and
+V. A. D.&#39;s of that hospital like a lieutenant
+general looking for trouble. He saw that
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page132" id="page132"></a>[pg&nbsp;132]</span>
+Peter received every attention, and then that
+every other man in the hospital received the
+same&mdash;and yet he was as polite as your
+maiden aunt. Several medical officers, including
+a colonel, jumped on him&mdash;figuratively
+speaking&mdash;only to jump back again
+as if they had landed on spikes.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">As soon as he regarded Peter as fit to be
+moved he took him to his own house. There
+the queer servants waited on Peter day and
+night in order of seniority. They addressed
+him as &quot;Sergt. Peter, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Over in Flanders things had bumped and
+smashed along much as usual since Christmas
+morning. Mr. Scammell had read his
+promotion in orders and the London Gazette,
+had put up his third star and had
+gone to brigade as staff captain, Intelligence;
+and David Hammer, with the acting
+rank of sergeant major, carried on in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page133" id="page133"></a>[pg&nbsp;133]</span>
+command of the battalion scouts. Hiram
+Sill had been awarded the Distinguished
+Conduct Medal for his work on Christmas
+morning and the two chevrons of a corporal
+for his work in general. A proud man
+was Corp. Sill, with that ribbon on his
+chest.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The changes and chances of war had
+also touched Dick Starkley and Frank Sacobie.
+Lieut. Smith had persuaded Dick to
+leave the scouts and become his platoon sergeant;
+Sacobie was made an acting sergeant&mdash;and
+the night of that very day, while
+he was displaying his new chevrons in No
+Man&#39;s Land, he received a wound in the
+neck that put him out of the line for two
+weeks.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Henry Starkley&mdash;a captain now&mdash;managed
+to visit the battalion about twice a
+month. It was in the fire trench that he
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page134" id="page134"></a>[pg&nbsp;134]</span>
+found Dick one mild and sunny morning
+of the last week of February. The brothers
+grinned affectionately and shook hands.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Peter has sailed for home, wooden leg
+and all,&quot; said Henry. &quot;I got a letter yesterday
+from Jack Davenport. Except for the
+sneaking Hun submarines, Peter is fairly
+safe now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I hope he makes the farm,&quot; said Dick.
+&quot;He was homesick for it every minute and
+working out crop rotations on the backs of
+letters every night, in the line and out&mdash;except
+when he was fighting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;There was something about you in Jack&#39;s
+letter. He says that offer still stands, and
+he seems as anxious as ever about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick sat down on the fire step, thrust out
+his muddy feet on the duck boards and
+gazed at them. He scratched himself
+meditatively in several places.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page135" id="page135"></a>[pg&nbsp;135]</span>
+&quot;I&#39;d like fine to be an officer,&quot; he said
+at last. &quot;Almost any one would. But I
+don&#39;t want to leave this bunch just now.
+Jack&#39;s crowd will want officers in six months
+just as much as now&mdash;maybe more; and if
+I&#39;m lucky&mdash;still in fighting shape six months
+from now&mdash;I&#39;ll be better able to handle
+the job.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll write that to Jack,&quot; said Henry.
+&quot;He will understand&mdash;and your platoon
+commander will be pleased. He and the
+adjutant talked to me to-day as if something
+were coming to you&mdash;a D. C. M., I think.
+What happened to your first adjutant, Capt.
+Long, by the way?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Long&#39;s gone west,&quot; replied Dick briefly.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;m sorry to hear that. Shell get
+him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No, sniper. He took one chance too
+many.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page136" id="page136"></a>[pg&nbsp;136]</span>
+&quot;I heard at the brigade on my way in that
+your friend, Dave Hammer, has his commission.
+I wonder if they have told him
+yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Good! Let&#39;s go along and tell him.
+He is sleeping to-day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They found Dave in his little dugout,
+with the mud of last night&#39;s expedition
+still caked on his person from heel to head.
+His blankets were cast aside, and he lay
+flat on his back and snored. His snores had
+evidently driven the proprietors of the
+other bunks out of that confined place, for
+he was alone. His muddy hands clasped
+and unclasped. He ceased his snoring suddenly
+and gabbled something very quickly
+and thickly in which only the word &quot;wire&quot;
+was recognizable. Then he jerked up one
+leg almost to his chin and shot it straight
+again with terrific force.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page137" id="page137"></a>[pg&nbsp;137]</span>
+&quot;He is fighting in his dreams, just the
+way my old dog Snap used to,&quot; said Dick.
+&quot;We may as well wake him up, for he isn&#39;t
+resting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Go to it&mdash;and welcome,&quot; said Henry.
+&quot;It&#39;s an infantry job.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick stooped and cried, &quot;Hello, Dave!&quot;
+but the sleeper only twitched an arm.
+&quot;Wake up!&quot; roared Dick. &quot;Wake up and
+go to sleep right!&quot; The sleeper closed his
+mouth for a second but did not open his
+eyes. He groaned, muttered something
+about too much light and began to snore
+again. Dick put a hand on his shoulder&mdash;and
+in the same breath of time he was
+gripped at wrist and throat with fingers
+like iron. Grasping the hand at his throat,
+Dick pulled a couple of fingers clear.
+Then the sleeper closed his mouth again and
+opened his eyes wide.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page138" id="page138"></a>[pg&nbsp;138]</span>
+&quot;Oh, it&#39;s you, Dick!&quot; he said. &quot;Sorry.
+Must have been dreaming.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He sat up and shook hands with Henry.
+When he heard of his promotion he blushed
+and got out of his bunk.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That&#39;s a bit of cheering news,&quot; he said
+&quot;I&#39;ll have a wash on the strength of that,
+and something to eat. Wish we were out,
+and I&#39;d give a little party. Wonder if I
+can raise a set of stars to wear to-night,
+just for luck.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Henry went away half an hour later, and
+Dick returned to the fire trench. Capt.
+Keen, the adjutant, came looking for Hammer,
+found him still at his toilet and
+congratulated him heartily on his promotion.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Come along and feed with me, if you
+have had enough sleep,&quot; said the adjutant.
+&quot;The colonel wants to see you. He had a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page139" id="page139"></a>[pg&nbsp;139]</span>
+talk with you yesterday, didn&#39;t he&mdash;about
+to-night&#39;s job?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes, sir; and it will be a fine job, if the
+weather is just right. Looks now as if it
+might be too clear, but we&#39;ll know by sundown.
+I was dreaming about it a while
+ago. We were in, and I had a big sentry
+by the neck when Dick Starkley woke me
+up. I had grabbed Dick.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;The colonel is right,&quot; said Capt. Keen.
+&quot;You&#39;re working too hard, Hammer, and
+you&#39;re beginning to show it; your eyes look
+like the mischief. This fighting in your
+sleep is a bad sign.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;The whole army could do with a rest,
+for that matter,&quot; replied Hammer, &quot;but
+who would go on with the work? What
+I am worrying about now is rank
+badges. I&#39;d like to doll up a bit for to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page140" id="page140"></a>[pg&nbsp;140]</span>
+They went back to the sandbagged cellar
+under the broken farmhouse that served
+as headquarters for whatever battalion held
+that part of the line. On their way they
+had borrowed an old jacket with two stars
+on each sleeve from Lieut. Smith; and in
+that garment Dave Hammer appeared at
+the midday meal. The colonel, the medical
+officer, the padre and the quartermaster
+were there. They congratulated Dave on
+his promotion, and the colonel placed him
+at his right hand at the table on an upended
+biscuit box.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The fare consisted of roast beef and
+boiled potatoes, a serviceable apple pie and
+coffee. The conversation was of a general
+character until after the attack on the pie&mdash;an
+attack that was driven to complete success
+only by the padre, who prided himself
+on the muscular development of his jaws.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page141" id="page141"></a>[pg&nbsp;141]</span>
+The commanding officer, somewhat daunted
+in spirit by the pastry, looked closely at the
+lieutenant.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You need a rest, Hammer,&quot; he said.
+&quot;Keen, didn&#39;t I tell you yesterday that
+Hammer must take a rest? Doc, just slant
+an eye at this young officer and give me
+your opinion. Doesn&#39;t he look like all-get-out?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Looks like get-out-of-the-front-line to
+me, sir,&quot; said the medical officer. &quot;A
+couple of weeks back would set him on
+his feet. You say the word, sir, and I&#39;ll
+send him back this very day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;But the show!&quot; exclaimed Hammer.
+&quot;I must go out to-night, sir!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Hammer is the only officer with his
+party, sir,&quot; said Capt. Keen to the colonel.
+&quot;As you know, sir, we held the organization
+down this time to only one officer with
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page142" id="page142"></a>[pg&nbsp;142]</span>
+each of our four parties&mdash;because officers
+are not very plentiful with us just
+now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That&#39;s the trouble!&quot; exclaimed the colonel.
+&quot;They hem and haw and chew the
+rag over our recommendations for commissions
+and keep sending us green officers
+from England who don&#39;t know the fine
+points of the game. So here we are forced
+to let Hammer go out to-night, when he
+should be in his blankets. But back he
+goes to-morrow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dave had intended to sleep that afternoon,
+but the excitement caused by the news
+of his promotion made it impossible. He
+who had never missed a minute&#39;s slumber
+through fear of death was set fluttering at
+heart and nerves by the two worsted &quot;pips&quot;
+on each sleeve of his borrowed jacket.
+The coat was borrowed&mdash;but the right to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page143" id="page143"></a>[pg&nbsp;143]</span>
+wear the stars was his, his very own, earned
+in Flanders. He toured the trenches&mdash;fire,
+communication and support&mdash;feeling that
+his stars were as big as pie plates.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Sentries, whose bayonet-tipped rifles
+leaned against the parapet, saluted and
+then grasped his hand. Subalterns and
+captains hailed him as a brother; and so
+did sergeants, with a &quot;sir&quot; or two thrown
+in. As Dave passed on his embarrassed
+but triumphant way down the trench his
+heart pounded as no peril of war had ever
+set it pounding. No emperor had ever
+known greater ache and uplift of glory than
+this grand conflagration in the heart and
+brain of Lieut. David Hammer, Canadian
+Infantry.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He visited his scouts; and they seemed as
+pleased at his &quot;pips&quot; as if each one of them
+had got leave to London. Even Sergt.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page144" id="page144"></a>[pg&nbsp;144]</span>
+Frank Sacobie&#39;s dark and calm visage
+showed flickers of emotion. Corp. Hiram
+Sill, D. C. M., who visioned everything in
+a large and glowing style, saw in his mind&#39;s
+eye the King in Buckingham Palace agreeing
+with some mighty general, all red and
+gold and ribbons, that this heroic and deserving
+young man should certainly be
+granted a commission for the fine work he
+was doing with the distinguished scouts of
+that very fine regiment.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I haven&#39;t a doubt that was the way of
+it,&quot; said Old Psychology. &quot;People with
+jobs like that are trained from infancy to
+grasp details; and I bet King George has
+the name of everyone of us on the tip of his
+tongue. You can bet your hat he isn&#39;t one
+to give away Distinguished Conduct Medals
+without knowing what he is about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram joined in the laughter that followed
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page145" id="page145"></a>[pg&nbsp;145]</span>
+his inspiring statements; not that he
+thought he had said anything to laugh at,
+but merely to be sociable.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">That &quot;show&quot; was to be a big one&mdash;a brigade
+affair with artillery coöperation. The
+battalion on the right was to send out two
+parties, one to bomb the opposite trench
+and the other to capture and demolish a
+hostile sap head&mdash;and together to raise Old
+Ned in general and so hold as much of the
+enemy&#39;s attention as possible from the main
+event. The battalion on the left was to
+put on an exhibition of rifle, machine-gun
+and trench-mortar fire that would assuredly
+keep the garrison opposite occupied with
+its own affairs.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">As for the artillery, it had already worked
+through two thirds of its elaborate programme.
+Four nights ago it had put on a
+shoot at two points in the hostile wire and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page146" id="page146"></a>[pg&nbsp;146]</span>
+front line, three hundred yards apart, short
+but hot. Then it had lifted to the support
+and reserve trenches. Three nights ago it
+had done much the same things, but not at
+the same hours, and on a wider frontage.
+The enemy, sure of being raided, had
+turned on his lights and his machine guns
+on both occasions&mdash;on nothing. He could
+do nothing then toward repairing his wire,
+for after our guns had churned up his entanglements
+our machine guns played upon
+the scene and kept him behind his parapet.
+The batteries had been quiet two nights ago,
+and Fritz, expecting a raid in force, had
+lost his nerve entirely. Our eighteen
+pounders had lashed him at noon the next
+day, and again at sunset and again at eleven
+o&#39;clock; and so he had sat up all night
+again with his nerves.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At four o&#39;clock in the afternoon of this
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page147" id="page147"></a>[pg&nbsp;147]</span>
+day of Dave Hammer&#39;s promotion the batteries
+went at it again, smashing wire and
+parapets with field guns and shooting up
+registered targets farther back with heavier
+metal. When hostile batteries retaliated,
+we did counter-battery work with such
+energy and skill that we soon had the
+last word in the argument. The deeds
+of the gunners put the infantry in high
+spirits.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The afternoon grew misty; shortly after
+five o&#39;clock there was a shower. At half
+past seven scouts went out from the 26th
+and the battalion on the right and, returning,
+reported that the wire was nicely ripped
+and chewed. At eight the battalion on the
+left put on a formidable trench-mortar
+shoot, which quite upset the nerve-torn
+enemy. Then all was at rest on that particular
+piece of the western front&mdash;except
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page148" id="page148"></a>[pg&nbsp;148]</span>
+for the German illumination&mdash;until half
+past twelve.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Half past twelve was Zero Hour. A
+misty rain was seeping down from a slate-gray
+sky. Six lieutenants in the fire trench
+of two battalions took their eyes from the
+dials of their wrist watches, said &quot;time&quot; to
+their sergeants and went over, with their
+men at their heels and elbows. The two
+larger parties from our battalion were to
+get into the opposite trench side by side,
+there separate one to the left and one to the
+right, do what they could in seven minutes
+or until recalled, then get out and run for
+home with their casualties&mdash;if any. They
+were to pass their prisoners out as they collared
+them. The smaller parties were
+made up of riflemen, stretcher bearers and
+escorts for the prisoners. The raiding
+parties were commanded by Mr. Hammer,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page149" id="page149"></a>[pg&nbsp;149]</span>
+with Sergt. Sacobie second in command,
+and Mr. Smith, with Sergt. Richard Starkley
+second in command. Corp. Hiram Sill
+was in Hammer&#39;s crowd.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Captain Scammell from brigade, the
+colonel and the adjutant stood in the trench
+at the point of exit. Suddenly they heard
+the dry, smashing reports of grenades
+through the chatter of machine-gun fire on
+the left. The bombs went fast and furious,
+punctuated by the crack of rifles and bursts
+of pistol fire. S. O. S. rockets went up from
+the German positions; and, as if in answer
+to those signals, our batteries laid a heavy
+barrage on and just in rear of the enemy&#39;s
+support trenches. The colonel flashed a
+light on his wrist.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;They have been in four minutes,&quot; he
+said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At that moment a muddy figure with
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page150" id="page150"></a>[pg&nbsp;150]</span>
+blackened face and hands and a slung rifle
+on his back scrambled into the trench,
+turned and pulled something over the
+parapet that sprawled at the colonel&#39;s
+feet.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Here&#39;s one of them, sir; and there&#39;s more
+coming,&quot; said the man of mud. &quot;Ah!
+Here&#39;s another. Boost him over, you fellers.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 501px;">
+<a name="i167" id="i167"></a>
+<img class="border" src="images/i167.jpg" width="501" height="700" alt="" />
+<div class="caption">
+<p class="center">&quot;&#39;HERE&#39;S ONE OF THEM, SIR; AND THERE&#39;S MORE
+COMING,&#39; SAID THE MAN OF MUD.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent">Into the trench tumbled another Fritz,
+and then a third, and then a Canadian, and
+then two more prisoners and the third
+Canadian.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Five,&quot; said the last of the escort. &quot;Us
+three started for home with eight, but something
+hit the rest of &#39;em&mdash;T-M bomb, I
+reckon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Sure it was,&quot; said the Canadian who had
+arrived first. &quot;Don&#39;t I know? I got a
+chunk of it in my leg.&quot; He stooped and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page151" id="page151"></a>[pg&nbsp;151]</span>
+fumbled at the calf of his right leg. The
+adjutant turned a light on him, and the man
+extended his hand, dripping with blood.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You beat it for the M. O., my lad,&quot;
+said the colonel.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Five more prisoners came in under a
+guard of two; and then six more of the
+raiders arrived, two of whom were carrying
+Lieut. Smith. The lieutenant&#39;s head
+was bandaged roughly, and the dressing
+was already soaked with blood.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;We did them in, sir,&quot; he said thickly to
+the colonel. &quot;Caught them in bunches&mdash;and
+bombed three dugouts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He was carried away, still muttering of
+the fight. By that time the majority of the
+other parties were in. Several of the men
+were wounded&mdash;and they had brought their
+dead with them, three in number. The
+Germans had turned their trench mortars
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page152" id="page152"></a>[pg&nbsp;152]</span>
+on their own front line from their support
+trenches.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;They&#39;re not all in yet,&quot; said Capt. Keen.
+&quot;Hammer isn&#39;t in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Just then Dick Starkley slid into the
+trench.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That you, Dick? Did you see Mr.
+Hammer? Or Frank Sacobie? Or Bruce
+McDonald?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I have McDonald&mdash;but some one&#39;s got
+to help me lift him over,&quot; said Dick breathlessly.
+&quot;Heavy as a horse&mdash;and hit pretty
+bad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Two men immediately slipped over the
+top and hoisted big McDonald into the
+trench. Hiram Sill put a hand on Dick&#39;s
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Dave Hammer and Sacobie,&quot; he whispered,
+&quot;are still out. Hadn&#39;t we better&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Right,&quot; said Dick. &quot;Come on out.&quot;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page153" id="page153"></a>[pg&nbsp;153]</span>
+He turned to Capt. Scammell. &quot;Please
+don&#39;t let the guns shorten for a minute or
+two, sir; Sill and I have to go out again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Without waiting for an answer they
+whipped over the sandbags. Hiram was
+back in two minutes. He turned on the
+fire step and received something that Dick
+and Frank Sacobie lifted over to him. It
+was Dave Hammer, unconscious and breathing
+hoarsely, with his eyes shut, his borrowed
+tunic drenched with mud and blood
+and one of his bestarred sleeves shot away.
+Capt. Scammell swayed against the colonel
+and, for a second, put his hand to his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Steady, lad, steady,&quot; said the colonel in
+a queer, cracked voice. &quot;Keen, tell the
+guns to drop on their front line with all
+they&#39;ve got&mdash;and then some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">To the whining and screeching of our
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page154" id="page154"></a>[pg&nbsp;154]</span>
+shells driving low overhead and the tumultuous
+chorus of their exploding, passed the
+undismayed soul of Lieut. David Hammer
+of the Canadian Infantry.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Heedless of the coming and going of the
+shells and the quaking of the parapet, Sacobie
+sat on the fire step with his hands between
+his knees and stared fixedly at nothing;
+but Hiram Sill and young Dick Starkley
+wept without thought of concealment,
+and their tears washed white furrows down
+their blackened faces.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page155" id="page155"></a>[pg&nbsp;155]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chVII" id="chVII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br />
+<small>PETER WRITES A LETTER</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">IN March, 1916, Sergt. Peter Starkley
+got back to his own country, bigger
+in the chest and an inch taller than
+when he had gone away. He walked a little
+stiffly on his right foot, it is true&mdash;but what
+did that matter? His letters to the people
+at home had, by intention, given them only
+a vague idea of the possible date of his arrival.
+They knew that he was coming, that
+he was well, and that his new leg was such
+a masterpiece of construction that he had
+danced on it in London on two occasions.
+Otherwise he was unannounced.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He went to the town of Stanley first
+and left his baggage in the freight shed
+at the siding. With his haversack on his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page156" id="page156"></a>[pg&nbsp;156]</span>
+shoulder and a stout stick in his right hand,
+he set out along the white and slippery
+road. Before he got to the bridge a two-horse
+sled overtook him, and the driver, an
+elderly man whom he did not know, invited
+him to climb on. Peter accepted the
+invitation with all the agility at his command.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You step a mite lame on your right leg,&quot;
+said the driver.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That&#39;s so,&quot; replied Peter, smiling.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Been soldierin&#39;, hey? See any fight-in&#39;?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes, I&#39;ve been in Flanders.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;That so? I&#39;ve got a boy in the war.
+Smart boy, too. They give him a job right
+in England. He wears spurs to his boots,
+he does; and it ain&#39;t everyone kin wear them
+spurs, he writes me. This here war ain&#39;t
+all in Flanders. We had some shootin&#39;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page157" id="page157"></a>[pg&nbsp;157]</span>
+round here about a year back out Pike&#39;s Settlement
+way. A young feller in soldier uniform
+was drivin&#39; along, and some one shot
+at him from the woods. That&#39;s what <i>he</i>
+said, but my boy&mdash;that was afore he went
+to the war&mdash;says like enough he shot himself
+so&#39;s to git out of goin&#39;. He&#39;s a smart
+lad&mdash;that&#39;s why they give him a job in England.
+Army Service Corps, he is&mdash;so I
+reckon maybe he&#39;s right about that feller
+shootin&#39; himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What&#39;s his name?&quot; asked Peter quietly.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Starkley. Peter Starkley from Beaver
+Dam.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;m asking the name of that smart son
+of yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Gus Todder&#39;s his name&mdash;Gus Todder,
+junior. Maybe you know him,&quot; was the
+reply.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No, but I&#39;ve got his number,&quot; said Peter.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page158" id="page158"></a>[pg&nbsp;158]</span>
+&quot;You tell him so in the next letter you write
+him. Tell him that Sergt. Peter Starkley
+of the 26th Canadian Infantry Battalion will
+be glad to see him when he comes home;
+tell him not to cut himself on those spurs
+of his in the meantime; and you&#39;d better
+advise him to warn <i>his father</i> not to shoot
+his mouth off in future to military men
+about things he is ignorant of. Here&#39;s
+where I get off. Thanks for the lift.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter left the sled, but turned at the
+other&#39;s voice and stood looking back at him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I didn&#39;t get the hang of all that you was
+sayin&#39;,&quot; said Todder. He was plainly disconcerted.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Never mind; your son will catch the
+drift of it,&quot; replied Peter. &quot;I am too happy
+about getting home to be fussy about little
+things, but don&#39;t chat quite so freely with
+every returned infantryman you see about
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page159" id="page159"></a>[pg&nbsp;159]</span>
+your son&#39;s smartness. You call it smartness&mdash;but
+the fellows up where I left my
+right leg have another name for it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Opening the white gate, he went up the
+deep and narrow path between snow banks
+to the white house. At the top of the short
+flight of steps that led to the winter porch
+that inclosed the front door, he looked over
+his shoulder and saw Todder still staring
+at him. Peter grinned and waved his
+hand, then opened the door of the porch.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">As he closed the door behind him, the
+house door opened wide before him.
+Vivia stood on the threshold. She stared
+at him with her eyes very round and her
+lips parted, but she did not move or speak.
+She held her slim hands clasped before her&mdash;clasped
+so tight that the knuckles were
+colorless. Her small face, which had been
+as pale as her clasped hands at the first
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page160" id="page160"></a>[pg&nbsp;160]</span>
+glimpse, turned suddenly as red as a rose;
+and her eyes, which had been very bright
+even to their wonderful depths, were
+dimmed suddenly with a shimmer of tears.
+And for a long time&mdash;for ten full seconds,
+it may have been&mdash;Peter also stood motionless
+and stared. The heavy stick slipped
+from his fingers and fell with a clatter on
+the floor of the porch. He stepped forward
+then and enfolded her in his khaki-clad
+arms, safe and sure against the big
+brass buttons of his greatcoat; and just then
+the door of the porch opened, and Mr.
+Todder said:</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I ain&#39;t got the hang of yer remarks yet,
+young feller.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Chase yourself away home,&quot; replied
+Peter, without turning his head; and there
+was something in the tone of his voice that
+caused Mr. Todder to withdraw his head
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" id="page161"></a>[pg&nbsp;161]</span>
+from the porch and to retire, muttering, to
+his sled. Vivia had not paid the slightest
+heed to the interruption. She drew Peter
+into the hall.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I was afraid,&quot; she whispered. &quot;I didn&#39;t
+know how much they had hurt you, Peter&mdash;but
+I wasn&#39;t afraid of that. I should love
+you just as much if they had crippled you,&mdash;I
+am so selfish in my love, Peter,&mdash;but I
+was afraid, at first, that I might see a
+change in your eyes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;There couldn&#39;t be a change in my eyes
+when I look at you, unless I were blind,&quot;
+said Peter. &quot;Even if I were blind, I guess
+I could see you. But I am the same as I
+was, inside and out&mdash;all except a bit of
+a patent leg.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Just then Mrs. Hammond made her discreet
+appearance, expressed her joy and surprise
+at the sight of Peter and ventured a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" id="page162"></a>[pg&nbsp;162]</span>
+motherly kiss. Mr. Hammond came in
+from the store half an hour later and welcomed
+Peter cordially. The man had lost
+weight, and his face was grim. He got
+Peter to himself for a few minutes just before
+supper.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Jim is still on the other side the border
+somewhere, I guess,&quot; he said, &quot;though I
+haven&#39;t heard from him for months. I&#39;ve
+kept the shooting business quiet, Peter&mdash;and
+even about his deserting; but I had to tell
+his mother and Vivia that he wasn&#39;t any
+good as a soldier and had gone away. I
+made up some kind of story about it.
+Other people think he&#39;s in France, I guess&mdash;even
+your folks at Beaver Dam. But
+what do you hear of Pat? He isn&#39;t much
+of a hand at writing letters, but was well
+when he wrote last to his mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I didn&#39;t see him over there, but Henry
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" id="page163"></a>[pg&nbsp;163]</span>
+ran across him and said that he is doing
+fine work. He&#39;s got his third pip and is
+attached to headquarters of one of the brigades
+of the First Division as a learner.
+He has been wounded once, I believe, but
+very slightly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;And I used to think that Pat wasn&#39;t
+much good&mdash;too easy-going and loose-footed,&quot;
+said Mr. Hammond bitterly. &quot;My
+idea of a man was a storekeeper. Well,
+I think of him now, and I stick out my
+chest&mdash;and then I remember Jim, and my
+chest caves in again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">They were interrupted then by Vivia; so
+nothing more was said about the deserter.
+After supper Peter had to prove to the
+family that he could dance on his new leg.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll hitch the grays to the pung,&quot; said
+Mr. Hammond when about eight o&#39;clock
+Peter got ready to go. &quot;It&#39;s a fine night,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page164" id="page164"></a>[pg&nbsp;164]</span>
+and the roads are a marvel. I&#39;ll drive you
+home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;And I am going too,&quot; said Vivia.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dry maple sticks burned on the hearth
+of the big Franklin stove in the sitting room
+of Beaver Dam. Flora sat at the big table
+writing a letter to Dick; John Starkley and
+Jim Hammond played checkers; and Mrs.
+Starkley nodded in a chair by the fire.
+Emma had gone to bed. John Starkley had
+his hand raised and hovering for a master
+move when a jangle of bells burst suddenly
+upon their ears. Flora darted to a window,
+and the farmer hastened to the front
+door; but by the time Flora had drawn back
+the curtains and her father had opened the
+door Jim Hammond was upstairs and in his
+room.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim did not light the candle that stood
+on the window sill at the head of his bed.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page165" id="page165"></a>[pg&nbsp;165]</span>
+He closed the door behind him. The
+blind was up; starshine from the world of
+white and purple and silver without sifted
+faintly into the little room. He stood for
+a minute in the middle of the floor, listening
+to the broken and muffled sounds of
+talk and laughter from the lower hall. He
+heard a trill of Vivia&#39;s laughter. What
+had brought Vivia out again, he wondered.
+News of Peter, beyond a doubt; and
+good news, to judge by the sounds. He
+seated himself cautiously on the edge of
+the bed.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Now he heard his father&#39;s voice. Yes&mdash;and
+John Starkley was laughing. There
+was another man&#39;s voice, but he could hear
+only a low note of it now and then in the
+confused, happy babble of sound. A door
+shut&mdash;and then he could not hear anything.
+He wondered who the third man was and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page166" id="page166"></a>[pg&nbsp;166]</span>
+decided that he probably was some one
+from the village who had just arrived home
+and who had brought messages from Peter.
+Perhaps, he thought, Peter was even then
+on his way from England.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim sat there with the faint shine of the
+stars falling soft on the rag carpet at his
+feet and thought what wonderful people
+the Starkleys were. They had taken him
+in and treated him like one of the family&mdash;and
+like a white man. Now that Peter
+was coming home and would be able to
+help with the work, he would go away and
+show John Starkley that he had found his
+courage and his manhood. He had made
+his plans in a general way weeks before.
+He would go to another province and enlist
+in the artillery or in the infantry under
+an assumed name; if he &quot;made good,&quot; or
+got killed, John Starkley would tell all the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" id="page167"></a>[pg&nbsp;167]</span>
+good he could of him to his family in Stanley.
+Already he felt lonely, a dreary chill
+of homesickness, at the thought of leaving
+Beaver Dam.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">A door opened and closed downstairs,
+but Jim Hammond was too busy with his
+thoughts and high resolves to hear the faint
+sounds. He even did not hear the feet on
+the carpeted stairs&mdash;and a hand was on the
+latch of the door before he knew that some
+one was about to enter the room. He sat
+rigid and stared at the door.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The door opened and some one entered
+who bulked large and tall in the pale half
+gloom of the room. The visitor halted and
+turned his face toward the bed.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Who&#39;s there?&quot; he asked; and Jim could
+see the shoulders lower and advance a
+little and the whole figure become tense as
+if for attack.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" id="page168"></a>[pg&nbsp;168]</span>
+&quot;It&#39;s me, Peter!&quot; whispered Jim sharply
+&quot;Shut the door quick!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You! You, Jim Hammond!&quot; said
+Peter in a voice of amazement and anger.
+&quot;What the mischief are you doing here?&quot;
+Without turning his face from the bed he
+shut the door behind him with his heel.
+&quot;Light the candle and pull down the shade.
+Let me see you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim got to his feet and reached for the
+shade, but Peter spoke before he touched it.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No! The candle first!&quot; exclaimed
+Peter, with an edge to his voice. &quot;I don&#39;t
+trust you in the dark any more than I trust
+you in the woods.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hammond struck a match and lit the
+candle, then drew down the shade and
+turned with his back to the window. His
+face was pale. &quot;I didn&#39;t figure on your
+getting home so soon,&quot; he said in an unsteady
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page169" id="page169"></a>[pg&nbsp;169]</span>
+voice. &quot;I didn&#39;t intend to be
+here. I thought I&#39;d be gone before you
+came.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What are you doing here, anyway?&quot;
+demanded Peter. &quot;What&#39;s the game?
+Sitting in my room, on my bed, quite at
+home, by thunder! And your father thinks
+you are in the States. Does my father
+know you are here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jim smiled faintly. &quot;Yes, he knows&mdash;and
+all your folks know. I&#39;ve been here
+since about the middle of October, working,
+and sleeping in this room every night. My
+people don&#39;t know where I am&mdash;but when
+I get to France you can tell them. Your
+father doesn&#39;t know that it was I who fired
+that shot&mdash;and when I found you hadn&#39;t
+told him that, or even that I was a deserter,
+I felt it was up to me to do my best for
+you while you were away. So I&#39;ve worked
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page170" id="page170"></a>[pg&nbsp;170]</span>
+hard and been happy here; and I&#39;ll be sorry
+to go away&mdash;but I must go now that you&#39;re
+home again. Don&#39;t tell my people I&#39;m
+here, Peter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You have been living here ever since
+the middle of October, working here, and
+your own father and mother don&#39;t know
+where you are?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Your people are the only ones who
+know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter eyed him in silence for a minute.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Why did you shoot me, Jim?&quot; he asked
+more gently.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;How do I know?&quot; exclaimed Hammond.
+&quot;I was drinking; I was just about
+mad with drink. I liked you well enough,
+Peter,&mdash;I didn&#39;t want to kill you,&mdash;but the
+devil was in me. It was drink made me
+act so bad in St. John; it was drink made
+me desert; it was drink that came near making
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page171" id="page171"></a>[pg&nbsp;171]</span>
+a murderer of me. That&#39;s the truth,
+Peter&mdash;and now I wish you&#39;d go downstairs,
+for I don&#39;t want my father or Vivia
+to find me here&mdash;or to know anything about
+me till I&#39;m in France.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Shall I find you here when I come
+back?&quot; asked Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll come downstairs as soon as they
+go,&quot; said Hammond.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Peter was about to leave the room when
+he suddenly remembered the errand that
+had brought him away from the company
+downstairs. It was a photograph of himself
+taken at the age of five years. Vivia
+had heard of it and asked for it; and before
+either of his parents or Flora had been
+able to think of a way of stopping him he
+had started upstairs for it. Now he found
+it on the top of a shelf of old books and
+wiped off the dust on his sleeve.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page172" id="page172"></a>[pg&nbsp;172]</span>
+&quot;Vivia wants it,&quot; he said, smiling self-consciously.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He found Flora waiting at the head of
+the stairs for him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It&#39;s all right; I&#39;ve had a talk with him,&quot;
+he whispered, and when he reached the sitting
+room he met the anxious glances of
+his parents with a smile and nod that set
+their immediate anxieties at rest.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">It was past midnight when Vivia and her
+father drove away. Then Jim came downstairs,
+and Peter shook hands with him in
+the most natural way in the world.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;When we met in my bedroom we were
+both too astonished to shake hands,&quot; explained
+Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You must sleep in Dick&#39;s room now,
+Peter,&quot; said Mrs. Starkley.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Only for one night,&quot; said Jim, trying
+to smile but making a poor job of it. &quot;I&#39;ll
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page173" id="page173"></a>[pg&nbsp;173]</span>
+be off to-morrow, now that Peter is home
+again&mdash;just as I planned all along, you
+know. I&mdash;it isn&#39;t the going back to the
+army I mind; it is&mdash;leaving you people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">He smiled more desperately than ever.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Mrs. Starkley and Flora did not dare
+trust their voices to reply. John Starkley
+laid a hand on Jim&#39;s shoulder and said,
+&quot;Go when it suits you, Jim, and come back
+when it suits you&mdash;and we shall miss you
+when you are away, remember that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The three men sat up for another hour,
+talking of Peter&#39;s experiences and Jim&#39;s
+plans. They went upstairs at last, but even
+then neither Peter nor Jim could sleep, for
+the one was restless with happiness and the
+other with the excitement of impending
+change. Peter would see Vivia on the
+morrow, and Jim would meet strange faces.
+Peter had returned to the security that he
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page174" id="page174"></a>[pg&nbsp;174]</span>
+had fought and shed his blood for and to
+the life and people he loved; Jim&#39;s fighting
+was all before him, and behind him a disgrace
+to be outlived.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">After a while Peter got up and went to
+Jim&#39;s room in his pyjamas; he sat on the
+edge of Jim&#39;s bed, and they talked of the
+fighting over in France.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ve been thinking about my reënlistment,&quot;
+said Jim, &quot;and I guess I&#39;ll take a
+chance on my own name. It&#39;s my
+name I want to make good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Sounds risky&mdash;but I don&#39;t believe it is
+as risky as it sounds,&quot; said Peter.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Not if I go far enough away to enlist&mdash;to
+Halifax or Toronto. There must be
+lots of Hammonds in the army. I&#39;ll take
+the risk, anyway. It isn&#39;t likely I&#39;ll run
+across any of the old crowd. None of our
+old officers would be hard on me, I guess, if
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page175" id="page175"></a>[pg&nbsp;175]</span>
+they found me fighting and doing my duty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Capt. Long is dead. A great many of
+the old crowd are dead, and others have
+been promoted out of the regiment. Remember
+Dave Hammer?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes. If I could ever be as good a soldier
+as Dave Hammer I think I&#39;d forget&mdash;except
+sometimes in the middle of the night,
+maybe&mdash;what a mean, worthless fellow I
+have been.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ll tell you what, Jim,&quot; said Peter suddenly,
+&quot;I&#39;ll write a letter for you to carry;
+and if any one spots you over there and is
+nasty about it, you go to any officer you
+know in the old battalion and tell the truth
+and show my letter. I guess that will clear
+your name, Jim, if you do your duty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You don&#39;t mean to put <i>everything</i> in the
+letter, do you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Only what is known officially&mdash;that you
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page176" id="page176"></a>[pg&nbsp;176]</span>
+went home from your regiment here in
+Canada on pass, started acting the fool and
+deserted. That is the charge against you,
+Jim&mdash;desertion. But it is the mildest sort
+of desertion, and reënlistment just about
+offsets it. The same thing done in France
+in the face of the enemy is punished&mdash;you
+know how.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes, I know how it is punished,&quot; said
+Hammond. &quot;You wouldn&#39;t worry about
+that if you knew as much about how I feel
+now as I do myself. Of course I&#39;ve got to
+prove it before you&#39;ll believe it, Peter, but
+I&#39;m not afraid to fight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">When Peter had gone back to his room,
+he sat down to write the letter that Jim
+Hammond was to carry in his pocket. It
+was a long letter, and Peter was a slow
+writer. He spared no pains in making
+every point of his argument perfectly clear.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page177" id="page177"></a>[pg&nbsp;177]</span>
+He staked the military reputation of the
+whole Starkley family on James Hammond&#39;s
+future behavior as a soldier. He
+sealed it with red wax and his great-grandfather&#39;s
+seal and addressed the envelope to
+&quot;Any Officer of the 26th Can. Infty. Bn. or
+of any Unit of the Can. Army Corps of the
+B. E. F.&quot; When finally he had the letter
+done, it was morning.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page178" id="page178"></a>[pg&nbsp;178]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chVIII" id="chVIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br />
+<small>THE 26TH &quot;MOPS UP&quot;</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">AFTER Jim Hammond went away
+from Beaver Dam he wrote to
+Mrs. Starkley from Toronto, saying
+that he had enlisted in a new infantry
+battalion and that all was well with him.
+That was the last news from him, or of
+him, to be received at Beaver Dam for
+many months.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The war held and crushed and sweated
+on the western front. Every day found the
+Canadians in the grinding and perilous toil
+of it. In April, 1916, the Second Canadian
+Division held the ground about St.
+Eloi against terrific onslaughts. Then and
+there were fought those desperate actions
+known as the Battles of the Craters. Hiram
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page179" id="page179"></a>[pg&nbsp;179]</span>
+Sill, D. C. M., now a sergeant, received
+a wound that put him out of action
+for nearly two months. Dick Starkley was
+buried twice, once beneath the lip of one
+of the craters as it returned to earth after
+a jump into the air, and again in his dugout.
+No bones were broken, but he had
+to rest for three days.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Other Canadian divisions moved into the
+Ypres salient in April&mdash;back to their first
+field of glory of the year before. That
+salient of terrible fame, advanced round
+the battered city of Ypres like a blunt spearhead
+driven into the enemy&#39;s positions, will
+live for centuries after its trenches are
+leveled. British soldiers have fallen in
+their tens of thousands in and beyond and
+on the flanks of that city of destruction.
+From three sides the German guns flailed
+it through four desperate years. Masses
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page180" id="page180"></a>[pg&nbsp;180]</span>
+of German infantry surged up and broke
+against its torn edges, German gas drenched
+it, liquid fire scorched it, and mines blasted
+it. Now and again the edge of that salient
+was bent inward a little for a day or a
+week; but in those four years no German
+set foot in that city of heroic ruins except
+as a prisoner.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The 26th Battalion celebrated Dominion
+Day&mdash;July 1st&mdash;by raiding a convenient
+point of the German front line. The assault
+was made by a party of twenty-five
+&quot;other ranks&quot; commanded by two junior
+officers. It was supported by the fire of
+our heavy field guns and heavy and medium
+trench mortars.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Sergts. Frank Sacobie and Hiram Sill
+were of the party, but Dick Starkley was
+not. Dick could not be spared for it from
+his duties with his platoon, for he was in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page181" id="page181"></a>[pg&nbsp;181]</span>
+acting command during the enforced absence
+of Lieut. Smith, who was suffering
+at a base hospital from a combination of
+gas and fever. The men from New Brunswick
+were observed by the garrison of the
+threatened trench while they were still on
+the wrong side of the inner line of hostile
+wire, and a heavy but wild fire was opened
+on them with rifles and machine guns. But
+the raiders did not pause. They passed
+through the last entanglement, entered the
+trench, killed a number of the enemy and
+collected considerable material for identification.
+Their casualties were few, and no
+wound was of a serious nature. Hiram
+Sill was dizzy and bleeding freely, but
+cheerful. One small fragment of a bomb
+had cut open his right cheek, and another
+had nicked his left shoulder. Sacobie carried
+him home on his back.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page182" id="page182"></a>[pg&nbsp;182]</span>
+It was a little affair, remarkable only as
+a new way of celebrating Dominion Day,
+and differed only in minor details from hundreds
+of other little bursts of aggressive
+activity on that front.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Later in the month a Distinguished Service
+Order, two Military Crosses, four Distinguished
+Conduct Medals and five Military
+Medals were awarded to the battalion
+in recognition of its work about St. Eloi.
+Dick Starkley and Frank Sacobie each drew
+a D. C. M. A few days after that Lieut.
+Smith returned from Blighty and took back
+the command of his platoon from Dick;
+and at the same time he informed Dick
+that he was earmarked for a commission.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The Canadians began their march from
+the Ypres salient to the Somme on September
+1, 1916. They marched cheerfully,
+glad of a change and hoping for the best.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page183" id="page183"></a>[pg&nbsp;183]</span>
+The weather was fine, and the towns and
+villages through which they passed seemed
+to them pleasant places full of friendly
+people. They were going to fight on a
+new front; and, as became soldiers, it was
+their firm belief that any change would be
+for the better.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On the 8th of September, while on the
+march, Dick Starkley was gazetted a lieutenant
+of Canadian Infantry. Mr. Smith
+found his third star in the same gazette,
+and Dick took the platoon. Henry visited
+the battalion a few days later and presented
+to the new lieutenant an old uniform that
+would do very well until the London tailors
+were given a chance. Dick was a proud
+soldier that day; and an opportunity of
+showing his new dignity to the enemy soon
+occurred. That opportunity was the famous
+battle of Courcelette.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page184" id="page184"></a>[pg&nbsp;184]</span>
+From one o&#39;clock of the afternoon of
+September 14 until four o&#39;clock the next
+morning our heavy guns and howitzers belabored
+with high explosive shells the fortified
+sugar refinery and its strong trenches
+and the village of Courcelette beyond.
+Then for an hour the big guns were silent.
+The battalions of the Fourth and Sixth Brigades
+waited in their jumping-off trenches
+before Pozičres. The Fifth Brigade, of
+which the 26th Battalion was a unit, rested
+in reserve.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dawn broke with a clear sky and promise
+of sunshine and a frosty tingle in the air.
+At six o&#39;clock the eighteen-pounder guns
+of nine brigades of artillery, smashing into
+sudden activity, laid a dense barrage on
+the nearest rim of the German positions.
+Four minutes later the barrage lifted and
+jumped forward one hundred yards, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page185" id="page185"></a>[pg&nbsp;185]</span>
+the infantry climbed out of their trenches
+and followed it into the first German
+trench. The fight was on in earnest, and in
+shell holes, in corners of trenches and
+against improvised barricades many great
+feats of arms were dared and achieved. A
+tank led the infantry against the strongly
+fortified ruins of the refinery and toppled
+down everything in its path.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Lieut. Dick Starkley and his friends
+gave ear all morning to the din of battle,
+wished themselves farther forward in the
+middle of it and wondered whether the
+brigades in front would leave anything for
+them to do on the morrow. Messages of
+success came back to them from time to
+time. By eight o&#39;clock, after two hours of
+fighting, the Canadians had taken the
+formidable trenches, the sugar refinery, a
+fortified sunken road and hundreds of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page186" id="page186"></a>[pg&nbsp;186]</span>
+prisoners. The way was open to Courcelette.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;If they don&#39;t slow up&mdash;if they don&#39;t
+quit altogether this very minute&mdash;they&#39;ll
+be crowding right in to Courcelette and
+doing us out of a job!&quot; complained Sergt.
+Hiram Sill. &quot;That&#39;s our job, Courcelette
+is&mdash;our job for to-morrow. They&#39;ve done
+what they set out to do, and if they go ahead
+now and try something they haven&#39;t planned
+for, well, they&#39;ll maybe bite off more
+than they can chew. The psychology of
+it will be all wrong; their minds aren&#39;t
+made up to that idea.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I guess the idee ain&#39;t the hull thing,&quot;
+remarked a middle-aged corporal. &quot;Many
+a good job has been done kind of unexpectedly
+in this war. I reckon this here
+psychology didn&#39;t have much to do with
+your D. C. M.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page187" id="page187"></a>[pg&nbsp;187]</span>
+&quot;That&#39;s where you&#39;re dead wrong,
+Henry,&quot; said Hiram. &quot;I knew I&#39;d get a
+D. C. M. all along, from the first minute I
+ever set foot in a trench. My mind and
+my spirit were all made up for it. I knew
+I&#39;d get a D. C. M. just as sure as I know
+now that I&#39;ll get a bar to it&mdash;if I don&#39;t go
+west first.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick, who had joined the group, laughed
+and smote Hiram on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You&#39;re dead right!&quot; he exclaimed.
+&quot;Old Psychology, you&#39;re a wonder of the
+age! Be careful what you make up your
+heart and soul and mind to next or you&#39;ll
+find yourself in command of the division.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What do you mean, lieutenant?&quot; asked
+Sill.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You&#39;ve been awarded the D. C. M.
+again, that&#39;s all!&quot; cried Dick, shaking him
+violently by the hand. &quot;You&#39;ve got your
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page188" id="page188"></a>[pg&nbsp;188]</span>
+bar, Old Psychology! Word of it just
+came through from the Brigade.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Sergt. Sill blushed and grew pale and
+blushed again.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Say, boys, I&#39;m a proud man,&quot; he said.
+&quot;There are some things you can&#39;t get used
+to&mdash;and being decorated for distinguished
+conduct on the field of glory is one of them,
+I guess. If you&#39;ll excuse me, boys,&mdash;and
+you, lieutenant,&mdash;I&#39;ll just wander along that
+old trench a piece and think it over by myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The way was open to Courcelette. The
+battalions that had done the work in a few
+hours and that, despite a terrific fire from
+the enemy, had established themselves beyond
+their final objective, were anxious to
+continue about this business without pause
+and clean up the strongly garrisoned town.
+They had fought desperately in those few
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page189" id="page189"></a>[pg&nbsp;189]</span>
+hours, however, and the enemy&#39;s fire had
+taken toll of them, and so they were told to
+sit tight in their new trenches; but the common
+sense of their assertion that Courcelette
+itself should be assaulted without loss of
+time, before the beaten and astounded
+enemy could recover, was admitted.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At half past three o&#39;clock that afternoon
+the Fifth Brigade received its orders and
+instructions and immediately passed them
+on and elaborated them to the battalions
+concerned. By five o&#39;clock the three battalions
+that were to make the attack were
+on their way across the open country, advancing
+in waves. German guns battered
+them but did not break their alignment.
+They reached our new trenches and, with
+the barrage of our own guns now moving
+before them, passed through and over the
+victorious survivors of the morning&#39;s battle.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page190" id="page190"></a>[pg&nbsp;190]</span>
+The French Canadians and the Nova
+Scotians went first in two waves.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick Starkley and his platoon were on
+the right of the front line of the 26th, which
+was the third wave of attack. &quot;Mopping
+up&quot; was the battalion&#39;s particular job on
+this occasion.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Mopping up,&quot; like most military terms,
+means considerably more than it suggests
+to the ear. The mops are rifles, bombs and
+bayonets; the things to be mopped are
+machine-gun posts still in active operation,
+bays and sections of trenches still occupied
+by aggressive Germans, mined cellars and
+garrisoned dugouts. Everything of a menacing
+nature that the assaulting waves have
+passed over or outflanked without demolishing
+must be dealt with by the &quot;moppers-up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The two lines of the 26th advanced at an
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page191" id="page191"></a>[pg&nbsp;191]</span>
+easy walk; there was about five yards between
+man and man. Each man carried
+water and rations for forty-eight hours and
+five empty sandbags, over and above his
+arms and kit. The men kept their alignment
+all the way up to the edge of the village.
+Now and again they closed on the
+center or extended to right or left to fill a
+gap. Wounded men crawled into shell
+holes or were picked up and carried forward.
+Dead men lay sprawled beneath
+their equipment, with their rifles and bayonets
+out thrust toward Courcelette even in
+death. The &quot;walking wounded&quot; continued
+to go forward, some unconscious or unmindful
+of their injuries and others trying to
+bandage themselves as they walked.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Col. MacKenzie led them, and beside
+him walked a company commander. The
+two shouted to each other above the din of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page192" id="page192"></a>[pg&nbsp;192]</span>
+battle, and sometimes they turned and
+shouted back to their men. Other officers
+walked a few paces in front of their men.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">A bursting shell threw Dick backward
+into a small crater that had been made
+earlier in the day and knocked the breath
+out of him for a few seconds. Frank Sacobie
+picked him up. The colonel gave the
+signal to double, and the right flank of the
+26th broke from a walk into a slow and
+heavy jog. Sacobie jogged beside Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Just a year since we came into the
+line!&quot; shouted Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;We were pa&#39;tridge shootin&#39; two years
+ago to-day!&quot; bawled Sacobie.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The colonel turned with his back to Courcelette
+and his face to his men and yelled
+at them to come on. &quot;Speed up on the
+right!&quot; he shouted. &quot;The left is ahead.
+The 25th is in already. Shake a leg, boys.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page193" id="page193"></a>[pg&nbsp;193]</span>
+If they don&#39;t move quick enough in front,
+blow right through &#39;em.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At the near edge of the village a number
+of New Brunswickers, including their colonel,
+overtook and mingled with the second
+line of the 22d. Our barrage was lifted
+clear of Courcelette by this time and set
+like a spouting wall of fire and earth along
+the far side of it; but the shells of the enemy
+continued to pitch into it, heaving bricks
+and rafters and the soil of little gardens into
+the vibrating twilight. Machine guns
+streamed their fire upon the invaders from
+attics and cellars and sand-bagged windows.
+The bombs and rifles of the 22d smashed
+and cracked just ahead; and on the left,
+still farther ahead, crashes and bangs and
+shouts told all who could hear the whereabouts
+of Hilliam and his lads from Nova
+Scotia.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page194" id="page194"></a>[pg&nbsp;194]</span>
+Dick Starkley saw a darting flicker of
+fire from the butt of a broken chimney beyond
+a cellar full of bricks and splintered
+timber. He shouted to his men, let his
+pistol swing from its lanyard and threw a
+bomb. Then, stooping low, he dashed at
+the jumble of ruins in the cellar. He saw
+his bomb burst beside the stump of chimney.
+The machine gun flickered again, and
+<i>spat-spat-spat</i> came quicker than thought.
+Other bombs smashed in front of him, to
+right and left of the chimney. He got his
+right foot entangled in what had once been
+a baby&#39;s crib.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">There he was, staggering on the very
+summit of that low mound of rubbish,
+fairly in line with the aim of the machine
+gun. Something seized him by some part
+of his equipment and jerked him backward.
+He lit on his back and slid a yard, then beheld
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page195" id="page195"></a>[pg&nbsp;195]</span>
+the face of Hiram Sill staring down at
+him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Hit?&quot; asked Hiram.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Don&#39;t think so. No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It&#39;s a wonder.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Five men from Dick&#39;s platoon joined
+them in the ruins. Together they threw
+seven grenades. The hidden gun ceased
+fire. Dick scrambled up and over the rubbish
+and around what was left of the shattered
+chimney that masked the machine-gun
+post. In the dim light he saw sprawled
+shapes and crouching shapes, and one
+stooped over the machine gun, working
+swiftly to clear it again for action. Dick
+pistoled the gunner. The three survivors
+of that crew put up their hands. Sergt.
+Sill disarmed them and told them to &quot;beat
+it&quot; back to the Canadian lines. Fifty yards
+on they found Sacobie and two privates
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page196" id="page196"></a>[pg&nbsp;196]</span>
+counting prisoners at the mouth of a dugout.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Twenty-nine without a scratch,&quot; said
+Sacobie.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Find stretchers for them and send them
+back with our wounded, under escort,&quot;
+said Dick. &quot;Put a corporal in charge. Is
+there a corporal here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;m here, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You, Judd? Take them back with as
+many of our wounded as they can carry.
+Two men with you should be escort enough.
+Hand over the wounded and fetch up any
+grenades and ammunition you can get hold
+of.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Capt. Smith staggered up to Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;We are through and out the other side!&quot;
+he gasped. &quot;Get as many of our fellows
+as you can collect quick to stiffen this flank.
+Dig in beyond the houses&mdash;in line with the
+25th. The colonel is up there somewhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page197" id="page197"></a>[pg&nbsp;197]</span>
+He swayed and stumbled against the platoon
+commander. Dick supported him
+with an arm.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Hit?&quot; asked Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Just what you&#39;d notice,&quot; said the captain,
+straightening himself and reeling away.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Go after him and do what you can for
+him,&quot; said Dick to one of his men. &quot;Bandage
+him and then go look for an M. O.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick hurried on toward the forward edge
+of the village, strengthening his following
+as he went. The shelling was still heavy
+and the noise deafening, but the hand-to-hand
+fighting among the houses had lessened.
+Dick led his men through one wall
+of a house that had been hit by a heavy shell
+and through the other wall into a little garden.
+There were bricks and tiles and iron
+shards in that garden; and in the middle
+of it, untouched, a little arbor of grapevines.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page198" id="page198"></a>[pg&nbsp;198]</span>
+Dick passed through the arbor on his way
+to the broken wall at the foot of the garden.
+There were two benches in it and a small
+round table.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick went through the arbor in a second,
+and then he sprang to the broken crest of
+the wall. He had scarcely mounted upon
+it before something red burst close in front
+of his eyes.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent">Dick was not astonished to find himself
+in the old garden at Beaver Dam. The
+lilacs were in flower and full of bees and
+butterflies. He still wore his shrapnel helmet.
+It felt very uncomfortable, and he
+tried to take it off&mdash;but it stuck fast to his
+head. Even that did not astonish him. He
+saw an arbor of grapevines and entered it
+and sat down on a bench with his elbows
+on a small round table. He recognized it
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page199" id="page199"></a>[pg&nbsp;199]</span>
+as the arbor he had seen that evening in
+Courcelette&mdash;the evening of September 15.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I must have brought it home with
+me,&quot; he reflected. &quot;The war must be
+over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Flora entered the arbor then and asked
+him why he was wearing an officer&#39;s jacket.
+He thought it queer that she had not heard
+about his commission.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I was promoted on the Somme&mdash;no, it
+was before that,&quot; he began, and then everything
+became dark. &quot;I can&#39;t see,&quot; he
+said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Don&#39;t worry about that,&quot; replied a
+voice that was not Flora&#39;s. &quot;Your eyes are
+bandaged for the time being. They&#39;ll be
+as well as ever in a few days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I must have been dreaming. Where am
+I&mdash;and what is wrong with me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You are in No. 2 Canadian General
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page200" id="page200"></a>[pg&nbsp;200]</span>
+Hospital and have been dreaming for almost
+a week. But you are doing very
+well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What hit me? And have I all my legs
+and arms?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It must have been a whiz-bang,&quot; replied
+the unknown voice. &quot;You are suffering
+from head wounds that are not so
+serious as we feared and from broken ribs
+and a few cuts and gashes. You must
+drink this and stop talking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick obediently drank it, whatever it
+was.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I wish you could give me some news
+of the battalion, and then I&#39;d keep quiet for
+a long time,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Do you want me to open and read this
+letter that your brother left for you two
+days ago?&quot; asked the Sister.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She read as follows:</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page201" id="page201"></a>[pg&nbsp;201]</span>
+&quot;Dear Dick. As your temperature is up
+and you refuse to know me I am leaving
+this note for you with the charming Sister
+who seems to be your C. O. just now. She
+tells me that you will be as fit as a fiddle in
+a month or so. Accept my congratulations
+on your escape and on the battle of Courcelette.
+I have written to Beaver Dam
+about it and cabled that you will live to
+fight again. Frank Sacobie and that psychological
+sergeant with a D. C. M. and
+bar are booked for Blighty, to polish up
+for their commissions. I called on them
+after the fight. They are well&mdash;but I can&#39;t
+say that they escaped without a scratch, for
+they both looked as if they had been mixing
+it up with a bunch of wildcats. Sacobie
+has a black eye and doesn&#39;t know who or
+what hit him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Do you remember Jim Hammond? He
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page202" id="page202"></a>[pg&nbsp;202]</span>
+came over to a battalion of this division with
+a draft from England about four months
+ago. He looked me up one day last week
+and told me a mighty queer story about
+himself. I won&#39;t try to repeat it, for I am
+sure he&#39;ll tell it to you himself at the first
+opportunity. He is making good, as far
+as I can see and hear. Pat Hammond has
+a job in London now. He was badly gassed
+about a month ago. I will get another
+day&#39;s special leave as soon as possible and
+pay you another visit.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Your affectionate brother, Henry Starkley.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page203" id="page203"></a>[pg&nbsp;203]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chIX" id="chIX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br />
+<small>FRANK SACOBIE OBJECTS</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">WITHIN ten days of the battle of
+Courcelette, Lieut. Richard
+Starkley was able to see; and
+twenty days after that he was able to walk.
+His walking at first was an extraordinary
+thing, and extraordinary was the amount
+of pleasure that he derived from it. With
+a crutch under one shoulder and Sister Gilbert
+under the other, bandaged and padded
+from hip to neck, and with his battered
+but entire legs wavering beneath him, he
+crossed the ward that first day without exceeding
+the speed limit. Brother officers
+in various stages of repair did not refrain
+from expressing their opinions of his performance.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page204" id="page204"></a>[pg&nbsp;204]</span>
+&quot;Try to be back for tea, old son,&quot; said a
+New Zealand major.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Are those your legs or mine you&#39;re fox-trotting
+with?&quot; asked an English subaltern;
+and an elderly colonel called, &quot;I&#39;ll hop out
+and show you how to walk in a minute, if
+you don&#39;t do better than that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The colonel laughed, and the inmates of
+the other beds laughed, and Dick and
+Sister Gilbert laughed, for that, you must
+know, was a very good joke. The humor
+of the remark lay in the fact that the elderly
+colonel had not a leg to his name.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Day by day Dick improved in pace and
+gait, and his activities inspired a number of
+his companions to shake an uncertain leg
+or two. The elderly colonel organized
+contests; and the great free-for-all race
+twice round the ward was one of the notable
+sporting events of the war.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page205" id="page205"></a>[pg&nbsp;205]</span>
+At last Dick was shipped to Blighty and
+admitted to a hospital for convalescent
+Canadian officers. There Capt. J. A.
+Starkley-Davenport soon found him. No
+change that the eye could detect had taken
+place in Jack Davenport. His face was
+as thin and colorless as when Dick had first
+seen it; his eyes were just as bright, and
+their glances as kindly and intent; his body
+was as frail and as immaculately garbed.
+Dick wondered how one so frail could
+exist a week without either breaking utterly
+or gaining in strength.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You&#39;re a wonder, Dick!&quot; exclaimed
+Davenport.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It strikes me that you are the wonder,&quot;
+said Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;But they tell me that you stopped a
+whiz-bang and will be as fit as ever, nerve
+and body, in a little while.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page206" id="page206"></a>[pg&nbsp;206]</span>
+&quot;I stopped bits of it&mdash;but I don&#39;t think
+it actually detonated on me. All I got was
+some of the splash. I was lucky!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You were indeed,&quot; said the other, with
+a shadow in his eyes. &quot;I was lucky, too&mdash;though
+there have been times when I have
+been fool enough to wish that I had been
+left on the field.&quot; Then he straightened
+his thin shoulders and laughed quietly.
+&quot;But if I had gone west I should have
+missed Frank Sacobie and Hiram Sill.
+They lunched with me last week and have
+promised to turn up on Sunday. You&#39;ll be
+right for Sunday, Dick, and I&#39;ll have a
+pucka party in your honor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;How are they, and what are they up to?&quot;
+asked Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;They are at the top of their form, both
+of them, and up to anything,&quot; replied
+Davenport. &quot;Your Canadian cadet course
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page207" id="page207"></a>[pg&nbsp;207]</span>
+is the stiffest thing of its kind in England,
+but it doesn&#39;t seem to bother those two.
+Frank is smarter than anything the Guards
+can show and is believed to be a rajah;
+and Hiram writes letters to Washington
+urging the formation of an American division
+to be attached to the Canadian Corps
+and suggesting his appointment to the command
+of one of the brigades.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Those letters must amuse the censors,&quot;
+said Dick with a grin.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I imagine they do. Washington hasn&#39;t
+answered yet; and so Hiram is getting his
+dander up and is pitching each letter a little
+higher than the one before it. Incidentally,
+he has a great deal to say to our War
+Office, and his novel suggestions for developing
+trench warfare seem to have awakened
+a variety of emotions in the brains and
+livers of a lot of worthy <i>brass hats</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page208" id="page208"></a>[pg&nbsp;208]</span>
+Dick laughed. &quot;What are his ideas for
+developing trench warfare?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;One is the organization of a shot-gun
+platoon in every battalion. The weapon is
+to be the duck gun, number eight bore, I
+believe. Hiram maintains that, used
+within a range of one hundred and fifty
+yards, those weapons would be superior to
+any in repulsing attacks in mass and in
+cleaning up raided trenches. He is a great
+believer in the deadly and demoralizing
+effects of point-blank fire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He is right in that&mdash;once you get rid of
+the parapet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He gets rid of the parapet with the
+point-blank fire of what he calls trench cannon&mdash;guns,
+three feet long, mounted so that
+they can be carried along a trench by
+four men; they are to fire ten- or twelve-pound
+high explosive shells from the front
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page209" id="page209"></a>[pg&nbsp;209]</span>
+line smack against the opposite parapet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It sounds right, too; but so many things
+sound right that work all wrong. What
+are his other schemes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;One has to do with a thundering big six-hooked
+grapnel, with a wire cable attached,
+that is to be shot into the hostile lines from
+a big trench mortar and then winched back
+by steam. He expects his grapnel&mdash;give
+him power enough&mdash;to tear out trenches,
+machine-gun posts and battalion headquarters,
+and bring home all sorts of odds
+and ends of value for identification purposes.
+Can&#39;t you see the brigadier stepping
+out before brekker to take a look at
+the night&#39;s haul?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;My hat! What did the War Office
+think of that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;An acting assistant something or other
+of the name of Smythers and the rank of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page210" id="page210"></a>[pg&nbsp;210]</span>
+major was inspired by it to ask Hiram
+whether he had ever served in France.
+Hiram put over a twenty-page narrative
+of his exploits with the battalion, with appendixes
+of maps and notes and extracts
+from brigade and battalion orders, and, so
+far as I know, the major has not yet recovered
+sufficiently to retaliate.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Well, I hope Frank Sacobie has left the
+War Office alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Frank writes nothing and says very
+little more than that. He seems to give all
+his attention to his kit; but I have a suspicion
+that he is a deep thinker. However
+that may be, his taste in dress is astonishingly
+good, and his deportment in society
+is in as good taste as his breeches.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;So he has a good time?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;He is very gay when he comes up to
+town,&quot; answered Davenport.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page211" id="page211"></a>[pg&nbsp;211]</span>
+&quot;He deserves a good time, but he can&#39;t
+get it and at the same time doll himself up,
+even in uniform, on his pay. How does
+he do it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You have guessed it, Dick.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I think I have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Then there is no need of my saying much
+about it. I live on one sixth of my income.
+That leaves five sixths for my friends; and
+often, Dick, it is the thought of the spending
+of the five parts that gives me courage
+to go on keeping life in this useless body
+with the one part. Sometimes a soldier&#39;s
+wife buys food for herself and children, or
+pays the rent, with my money; and the lion&#39;s
+share of the pleasure of that transaction
+is mine. Sometimes a chap on leave spends
+a fistful of my treasury notes on dinners for
+himself and his girl; and those dinners give
+me more pleasure than the ones I eat myself.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page212" id="page212"></a>[pg&nbsp;212]</span>
+I haven&#39;t much of a stomach of my
+own now, you know; and I haven&#39;t a girl
+of my own to take out to one&mdash;even if Wilson
+would let me go out at night. It is not
+charity. I satisfy my own lost hunger for
+food through the medium of poor people
+with good appetites: I have my fun and
+cut a dash in new breeches and swagger
+service jackets through the medium of hard
+fighting fellows from France. I am not
+apologizing, you understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You needn&#39;t,&quot; said Dick dryly; and then
+they both laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram Sill and Frank Sacobie called on
+Dick at the hospital soon after ten o&#39;clock
+on Sunday morning. They had come up
+to town the evening before. The greetings
+of the three friends were warm. Sacobie&#39;s
+pleasure at the reunion found no voice, but
+shone in his eyes and thrilled in the grip of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page213" id="page213"></a>[pg&nbsp;213]</span>
+his hand. Hiram Sill added words to the
+message of his beaming face. He expressed
+delighted amazement at Dick&#39;s appearance.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I couldn&#39;t quite believe it until now,&quot;
+he said. &quot;Neither could you if you had
+seen yourself as we saw you when you were
+picked up. Nothing the matter with your
+face, except a dimple or two that you
+weren&#39;t born with. All your legs and arms
+still your own. I&#39;d sooner see this than a
+letter from Washington. With your luck
+you&#39;ll live to command the battalion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick grinned. His greetings to his
+friends had been as boyishly impulsive and
+cheery as ever; yet there was something
+looking out through the affection in his eyes
+that would have puzzled his people in New
+Brunswick if they had seen it. There was
+a question in the look and a hint of anxiety
+and perhaps the faintest shade of the airs
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page214" id="page214"></a>[pg&nbsp;214]</span>
+of a fond father, a sympathetic judge and
+a hopeful appraiser. Frank and Hiram
+recognized and accepted it without thought
+or question. The look was nothing more
+than the shadow of the habit of responsibility
+and command.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram talked about Washington and the
+War Office, and discussed his grapnel idea
+with considerable heat. Frank Sacobie
+took no part in that discussion and little in
+the general conversation. Soon after twelve
+o&#39;clock all three set out in a taxicab for
+Jack Davenport&#39;s house.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The luncheon was successful. The other
+guests were three women&mdash;a cousin of
+Jack&#39;s on the Davenport side and her two
+daughters. The host and Hiram Sill both
+conversed brilliantly. Frank was inspired
+to make at least five separate remarks of
+some half dozen words each. Dick soon
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page215" id="page215"></a>[pg&nbsp;215]</span>
+let the drift of the general conversation
+escape him, so interested did he become in
+the girl on his right.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Kathleen Kingston seemed to him a
+strange mixture of shyness and self-possession,
+of calmness and vivacity. The coloring
+of her small face was wonderfully mobile&mdash;so
+Dick expressed it to himself&mdash;and
+yet her eyes were frank, steady and unembarrassed.
+Her voice was curiously low
+and clear.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick was conscious of feeling a vague
+and unsteady wonder at himself. Why
+this sudden interest in a girl? He had
+never felt anything of the kind before.
+Had this something to do with the wounds
+in his head? He could not entertain that
+suggestion seriously. However that might
+be, he felt that his sudden interest in this
+young person whom he had not so much
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page216" id="page216"></a>[pg&nbsp;216]</span>
+as heard of an hour ago greatly increased
+his interest in many things. He was conscious
+of a sure friendship for her, as if he
+had known her for years. He knew that
+this friendship was a more important thing
+to him than his friendships with Hiram Sill
+and Frank Sacobie&mdash;and yet those friendships
+had grown day by day, strengthened
+week by week and stood the test of suffering
+and peril.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She told him that her father was still in
+France, but safe now at General Headquarters,
+that her eldest brother had been
+killed in action in 1914, that another was
+fighting in the East, and that still another
+was a midshipman on the North Sea.
+Also, she told him that she wanted to go
+to France as a V. A. D., that she had left
+school six months ago and was working five
+hours every day making bandages and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page217" id="page217"></a>[pg&nbsp;217]</span>
+splints, and that she was seventeen years
+old. Those confidences melted Dick&#39;s
+tongue. He told her his own age and that
+he had added a little to it at the time of
+enlisting; he spoke of night and daylight
+raids and major offensive operations in
+which he had taken part, of the military
+careers of Henry and Peter and of life at
+Beaver Dam. She seemed to be as keenly
+interested in his confidences as he had been
+in hers. In the library, where coffee was
+served, Dick continued to cling to his new
+friend.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The party came to an end at last, leaving
+Dick in a somewhat scattered state of
+mind. Before leaving with her daughters,
+Mrs. Kingston gave her address and a cordial
+invitation to make use of it to each of
+the three. Before long Wilson took Jack
+off to bed. Then Hiram left to keep an appointment
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page218" id="page218"></a>[pg&nbsp;218]</span>
+at the Royal Automobile Club
+with a captain who knew some one at the
+War Office. That left Frank and Dick
+with Jack Davenport&#39;s library to themselves.
+One place was much the same as
+another to Dick just then. He was again
+wondering if he could possibly be suffering
+in some subtle and painless way from the
+wounds in his head. With enquiring fingers
+he felt the spotless bandage that still
+adorned the top of his head.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Sacobie got out of his chair suddenly,
+with an abruptness of movement that was
+foreign to him, and walked the length of
+the room and back. He halted before Dick
+and stared down at him keenly for several
+seconds without attracting that battered
+youth&#39;s attention. So he fell again to pacing
+the room, walking lightly and with
+straight feet, the true Indian walk. At
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page219" id="page219"></a>[pg&nbsp;219]</span>
+last he halted again in front of Dick&#39;s
+chair.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I am not going back to the battalion,&quot;
+he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick sat up with a jerk and stared at
+him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I am not going back,&quot; repeated Sacobie.
+&quot;I shall get my commission, that is sure;
+but I shall not be an officer in the battalion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Why the mischief not?&quot; exclaimed
+Dick. &quot;What&#39;s the matter with the battalion,
+I&#39;d like to know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Nothing,&quot; replied the other. He moved
+away a few paces, then turned back again.
+&quot;A good battalion. I was a good sergeant
+there. But I met Capt. Dodds, on leave,
+one day, and we had lunch together at
+Scott&#39;s; and he feel pretty good&mdash;he felt
+pretty good&mdash;and he talked a lot. He told
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page220" id="page220"></a>[pg&nbsp;220]</span>
+me how some officers and other ranks say
+the colonel didn&#39;t do right when he put in
+my name for cadet course and a commission.
+You know why, Dick. So I don&#39;t
+go back to the infantry with my two stars.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Do you mean because you are an Indian?
+That is rot!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No, it is good sense. You think about
+it hard as I have thought about it day and
+night. They don&#39;t say I don&#39;t know my
+job. The captain told me the colonel was
+right and everybody knew it when he said
+I should make the best scout officer in the
+brigade; and the men like me, you know
+that; but the men don&#39;t want an Injun for
+an officer. They are white men. I am a
+Malecite&mdash;red. That is right. I don&#39;t go
+back with my officer stars.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Do you mean that you won&#39;t take your
+commission?&quot; asked Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page221" id="page221"></a>[pg&nbsp;221]</span>
+&quot;No. I take it, sure. But not in the
+26th.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick did not argue. He had never considered
+his friend&#39;s case in that light before,
+but now he knew that Sacobie was right.
+The noncommissioned officers and men
+would not question Frank&#39;s military qualifications,
+his ability or his personal merits.
+His race was the only thing about him to
+which they objected&mdash;and that appeared
+objectionable in him only when they considered
+him as an officer. As a &quot;non-com&quot;
+he was one of themselves, but as an officer
+they must consider him impersonally as a
+superior. There was where the New
+Brunswick soldiers would cease to consider
+their friend and comrade Frank Sacobie
+and see only a member of an inferior race.
+Their point of view would immediately
+revert to that of the old days before the war,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page222" id="page222"></a>[pg&nbsp;222]</span>
+when they would have laughed at a Malecite&#39;s
+undertaking to perform any task except
+paddling a canoe.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Will you transfer to another battalion?&quot;
+asked Dick, as a result of his reflections.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Frank shook his head but made no reply.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Then to an English battalion?&quot; Dick
+persisted. &quot;There are dozens that would
+be glad to have you, Frank. A Canadian
+with your record would not have to look
+far for a job in this war. Jack Davenport&#39;s
+old regiment would snap you up
+quick as a wink, commission and all, I bet
+a dollar.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The other smiled gravely. &quot;That is
+right,&quot; he said. &quot;Capt. Davenport is my
+friend and knows what I am; but most English
+people want me to be some kind of
+prince from India. I am myself&mdash;a Canadian
+soldier. I don&#39;t want to play the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page223" id="page223"></a>[pg&nbsp;223]</span>
+monkey. Two-Blanket Sacobie was a big
+chief, with his salmon spear and sometimes
+nothing to eat. His squaw chopped the
+wood and carried the water. I am not a
+prince, nor I&#39;m not a monkey. I come to
+the war, and the English people call me
+rajah; but the Englishman come to our
+country and hire me for a guide in the
+woods and call me a nigger. No, I am
+myself with what good I have in me. I
+can do to fight the Germans, and that is all
+I want, Dick. I try to be a gentleman, like
+Peter and Capt. Davenport, and the King
+will make me an officer. That is good.
+I will join the Royal Flying Corps. Then
+they will name me for what I am by what
+I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick gripped Frank&#39;s right hand in a
+hearty clasp of respect and admiration.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You&#39;re a brick!&quot; he said. &quot;Jack was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page224" id="page224"></a>[pg&nbsp;224]</span>
+right when he said you were a deep thinker.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I got to think deep&mdash;deeper than you,&quot;
+said Frank. &quot;I got to think all for myself,
+because my fathers didn&#39;t think at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page225" id="page225"></a>[pg&nbsp;225]</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chX" id="chX"></a>CHAPTER X<br />
+<small>DICK OBLIGES HIS FRIEND</small></h2>
+
+<p class="indent">BOTH Hiram Sill and Frank Sacobie
+completed the cadet course and
+passed the final examinations.
+After one last fling at Washington and one
+more astounding suggestion to the War
+Office, Mr. Sill went back to France and
+his battalion and took command of a platoon.
+Mr. Sacobie transferred, with his
+new rank, to the Royal Flying Corps and
+immediately began another course of instruction.
+His brother officers decided
+that he was of a family of Italian origin.
+He did not bother his head about what they
+thought and applied himself with fervor
+to mastering the science of flying.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick recovered his strength steadily. He
+saw Davenport frequently and the Kingstons
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page226" id="page226"></a>[pg&nbsp;226]</span>
+still more frequently. His friendship
+with the Kingstons&mdash;particularly with
+Kathleen&mdash;deepened without a check. No
+two days ever went by consecutively without
+his seeing one or another of that family&mdash;usually
+one.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On a certain Tuesday morning near the
+end of November he left the hospital at ten
+o&#39;clock in high spirits. He had that morning
+discarded his last crutch and now moved
+along with the help of two big sticks. The
+dressing on his head was reduced to one
+thin strip of linen bound smoothly round
+just above the line of his eyebrows. It
+showed beneath his cap and gave him
+somewhat the air of a cheerful brigand.
+Though his left foot came into contact with
+the pavement very gingerly, he twirled one
+of the heavy sticks airily every now and
+again.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page227" id="page227"></a>[pg&nbsp;227]</span>
+Dick found Jack Davenport in the library.
+A woman and two little girls were
+leaving the library as he entered. The
+woman was poorly dressed, and her eyelids
+were red from recent tears&mdash;but now
+a look of relief, almost of joy, shone in her
+eyes. She turned on the threshold.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Bill will have more heart now, sir, for
+the fighting of his troubles and miseries over
+there,&quot; she said. &quot;If I were to stand and
+talk an hour, sir, I couldn&#39;t tell you what&#39;s
+in my heart&mdash;but I say again, God bless
+you for your great kindness!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She turned again then and passed Dick,
+and the butler opened the big door and
+bowed her out of the house with an air of
+cheery good will.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Capt. Starkley-Davenport sat with his
+crutch and stick leaning against the table.
+On the cloth within easy reach his check
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page228" id="page228"></a>[pg&nbsp;228]</span>
+book lay open before him. He was dressed
+with his usual completeness of detail and
+studied simplicity.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Have you been boarded yet?&quot; asked
+Jack.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;To-morrow,&quot; replied Dick. &quot;All the
+M. O.&#39;s are friends of mine, so I expect
+to wangle back to my battalion in two
+weeks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Jack smiled and shook his head. &quot;Your
+best friend in the world&mdash;or the maddest
+doctor in the army&mdash;wouldn&#39;t send you
+back to France on one leg, old son. Six
+weeks is nearer the mark.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I can make it in two. You watch me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;And is it still your old battalion, Dick?
+I have refrained from worrying you about
+it this time, because you deserved a rest&mdash;but
+I&#39;m keener than ever to see you in my
+old outfit; and your third pip is there for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page229" id="page229"></a>[pg&nbsp;229]</span>
+you to put up on the very day of your
+transfer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I&#39;ve been thinking about it, Jack&mdash;and
+of course I&#39;d like to do it because you want
+me to. But the colonel wouldn&#39;t understand.
+No one who does not know you
+would understand. People would think I&#39;d
+done it for the step, or that I hadn&#39;t hit it
+off, as an officer, with the old crowd. I
+want to stay, and yet I want to go. I want
+to fight on, as far as my luck will take me,
+with the 26th, and yet I&#39;d be proud as a
+brigadier to sport three pips with your lot.
+As for doing something that you want me
+to do&mdash;why, to be quite frank with you,
+there isn&#39;t another man in the world I&#39;d
+sooner please than you. Give me a few
+months more in which to decide. Give me
+until my next leave from France.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick had become embarrassed toward the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page230" id="page230"></a>[pg&nbsp;230]</span>
+end of his speech, and now he looked at
+Davenport with a red face. The other returned
+the glance with a flush on his thin
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Bless you, Dick,&quot; he said and looked
+away. &quot;Your next leave from France,&quot; he
+continued. &quot;Six or seven months from
+now, with luck. They don&#39;t give me
+much more than that.&quot; Dick stared at his
+friend.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I had to send for an M. O. early this
+morning,&quot; Jack went on in a level voice.
+&quot;Wilson did it; he heard me fussing about.
+By seven o&#39;clock there were three of the
+wisest looking me over&mdash;all three familiar
+with my case ever since I got out of hospital.
+They can&#39;t do anything, for everything that
+could be removed&mdash;German metal&mdash;was
+dug out long ago. A few odds and ends
+remain, here and there&mdash;and one or another
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page231" id="page231"></a>[pg&nbsp;231]</span>
+of those is bound to get me within ten
+or twelve months. So it will read
+in the <i>Times</i> as &#39;Died of wounds,&#39; after
+all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick&#39;s face turned white. &quot;Are you
+joking?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Not I, old son,&quot; said the captain, smiling.
+&quot;I have a sense of humor&mdash;but it
+doesn&#39;t run quite to that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;And here you are all dolled up in white
+spats! Jack, you have a giant&#39;s heart!
+And worrying about me and your regiment!
+Jack, I&#39;ll do it! I&#39;ll transfer. I&#39;ll put in
+my application to-day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;No. I like your suggestion better.
+Wait till your next leave from France. I
+have taken a fancy to that idea. You&#39;ll
+come home in six or seven months, and you&#39;ll
+ask me to let you put off your decision until
+you return again. Of course I shall
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page232" id="page232"></a>[pg&nbsp;232]</span>
+have to say yes&mdash;and, since I am determined
+to see the Essex badges on you, I&#39;ll
+wait another six or seven months. I am
+stubborn. Between your indecision and my
+stubbornness, the chances are that I&#39;ll fool
+the doctors. That would be a joke, if you
+like!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick hobbled round the table and grasped
+Jack&#39;s hand.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Done!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;I am with you,
+Jack. We&#39;ll play that game for all it is
+worth. But you didn&#39;t seriously believe
+what the doctors said, did you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes, until five minutes ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Two years ago they said you would be
+right as wheat in six months; and now they
+say you will be dead in a year. If they
+think they&#39;re prophets&mdash;they are clean off
+their job. Would they bet money on it?
+I don&#39;t think! One year! Fifty years
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page233" id="page233"></a>[pg&nbsp;233]</span>
+would have sounded almost as knowing and
+a good sight more likely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick stayed to luncheon, and he remained
+at the table after Wilson had taken
+Jack away to lie down. Wilson came back
+within fifteen minutes and found the
+Canadian subaltern where he had left
+him.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Sir, I am anxious about Capt. Jack,&quot; he
+said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Why do you say that?&quot; asked Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Sir Peter Bayle and two other medical
+gentlemen of the highest standing warned
+him this very morning, sir, that he was only
+one year more for this world; and now he
+is singing, sir,&mdash;a thing he has not done in
+months,&mdash;and a song which runs, sir, with
+your permission, &#39;All the boys and girls I
+chance to meet say, Who&#39;s that coming
+down the street? Why, it&#39;s Milly; she&#39;s a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page234" id="page234"></a>[pg&nbsp;234]</span>
+daisy&#39;&mdash;and so on, sir. I fear his wounds
+have affected his mind, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Wilson, I know that song and approve
+of it,&quot; said Dick. &quot;If Sir Peter Bayle told
+you, in November, 1916, that you were to
+die in November, 1917, of wounds received
+in 1914, should you worry? Nix to that!
+You would seriously suspect that Sir Peter
+had his diagnosis of your case mixed up in
+his high-priced noddle with Buchan&#39;s History
+of the War; and if you are the man I
+think you are, you, too, would sing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I thank you, Mr. Richard. You fill
+my heart with courage, sir,&quot; said Wilson.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick reached the Kingston house at four
+o&#39;clock and was shown as usual into the
+drawing-room. The ladies were not there,
+but an officer whom Dick had never seen
+before stood on the hearthrug with his back
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page235" id="page235"></a>[pg&nbsp;235]</span>
+to the fire. He wore the crown and star
+of a lieutenant colonel on his shoulders, a
+wound stripe on his left sleeve, the red tabs
+of the general staff on his collar, on his
+right breast the blue ribbon of the Royal
+Humane Society&#39;s medal and on his left
+breast the ribbons of the D. S. O., of the
+Queen&#39;s and the King&#39;s South African
+medals, of several Indian medals and of
+the Legion of Honor. His figure was
+slight and of little more than the medium
+height. A monocle without a cord shone
+in his right eye, and his air was amiable
+and alert. Dick halted on his two sticks
+and said, &quot;I beg your pardon, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The other flashed a smile, advanced
+quickly and in two motions put Dick into
+a deep chair and took possession of the
+sticks. Then he shook the visitor&#39;s hand
+heartily.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page236" id="page236"></a>[pg&nbsp;236]</span>
+&quot;Glad to see you,&quot; he said. &quot;There is
+no mistaking you. You are Kathleen&#39;s
+Canadian subaltern. I am Kathleen&#39;s
+father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick knew that there were plenty of
+suitable things to say in reply, but for the
+life of him he could not think of one of
+them. So he said nothing, but returned
+the colonel&#39;s smile.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Don&#39;t be bashful, Dick,&quot; continued the
+other. &quot;I was a boy myself not so long ago
+as you think&mdash;but I hadn&#39;t seen a shot fired
+in anger when I was your age. It&#39;s amazing.
+I wonder what weight of metal has
+gone over your head, not to mention what
+has hit you and fallen short. Tons and
+tons, I suppose. It&#39;s an astounding war, to
+my mind. Don&#39;t you find it so?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes, sir,&quot; replied Dick.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;And you are right,&quot; continued the other.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page237" id="page237"></a>[pg&nbsp;237]</span>
+&quot;I wish I were your age, so as to see it more
+clearly. Stupendous!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At that moment Mrs. Kingston and the
+two girls entered. It had been Dick&#39;s and
+Kathleen&#39;s intention to go out to tea; but
+the colonel upset that plan by saying that
+he was very anxious to hear Dick talk. So
+they remained at home for tea&mdash;and the
+colonel did all the talking. Dick agreed
+with everything he said about the war, however,
+and then he said that Dick was right&mdash;so
+it really made no difference after
+all which of them actually said the
+things.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">During the ten days of the colonel&#39;s
+leave he and Dick became firm friends.
+They knocked about town together every
+morning, often lunched with Jack Davenport
+and every afternoon and evening took
+Mrs. Kingston and the girls out. Dick
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page238" id="page238"></a>[pg&nbsp;238]</span>
+dined at home with the family on the colonel&#39;s
+last night of leave. After dinner,
+when the others left the table, the colonel
+detained Dick with a wink.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;I won&#39;t keep you from Kathleen ten
+minutes, my boy,&quot; he said. &quot;I want to tell
+you, in case I don&#39;t see you again for a long
+time,&mdash;meetings between soldiers are uncertain
+things, Dick,&mdash;that this little affair
+between you and my daughter has done me
+good to see. You are both babies, so don&#39;t
+take it too seriously. Take it happily.
+Whatever may happen in the future, you
+two children will have something very
+beautiful and romantic and innocent to look
+back at in this war. Though you should
+live to be ninety and marry a girl from Assiniboia,
+yet you will always remember this
+old town with pleasure. If, on the other
+hand, you should continue in your present
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page239" id="page239"></a>[pg&nbsp;239]</span>
+vein&mdash;that is, continue to feel like this after
+you grow up&mdash;that it is absolutely necessary
+to your happiness to have tea with my
+daughter every day&mdash;well, good luck to
+you! I can&#39;t say more than that, my boy.
+But in the meantime, be happy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Then he shook Dick vigorously by the
+hand, patted his shoulder and pushed him
+out of the room.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick handled the medical officers so ably
+that he and his transportation were ready
+for France on New Year&#39;s Day. The
+Kingstons saw him off. He found a seat
+in a first-class compartment and deposited
+his haversack in it. Then the four stood
+on the platform and tried in vain to think
+of something to say. Even Mrs. Kingston
+was silent. Officers of all ranks of
+every branch of the service, with their
+friends and relatives, crowded the long
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page240" id="page240"></a>[pg&nbsp;240]</span>
+platform. Late arrivals bundled in and
+out of the carriages, looking for unclaimed
+seats. Guards looked at their big silver
+watches and requested the gentlemen to take
+their seats. Then Mrs. Kingston kissed
+Dick; then Mary kissed him; and then,
+lifted to a state of recklessness, he kissed
+Kathleen on her trembling lips. He saw
+tears quivering in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;When I come back&mdash;next leave&mdash;will it
+be the same?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She bowed her head, and the tears spilled
+over and glistened on her cheeks. Standing
+in the doorway of the compartment,
+Dick saluted, then turned, trod on the toes
+of a sapper major, moved heavily from
+there to the spurred boots of an artillery
+colonel and sat down violently and blindly
+on his lumpy haversack. The five other
+occupants of the compartment glanced
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page241" id="page241"></a>[pg&nbsp;241]</span>
+from Dick to the group on the platform.</p>
+
+<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 502px;">
+<a name="i259" id="i259"></a>
+<img class="border" src="images/i259.jpg" width="502" height="699" alt="" />
+<div class="caption">
+<p class="center">&quot;STANDING IN THE DOORWAY OF THE COMPARTMENT,
+DICK SALUTED.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;We all know it&#39;s a rotten war, old son,&quot;
+said the gunner colonel and, stooping, rubbed
+the toes of his outraged boots with his
+gloves.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick found many old faces replaced by
+new in the battalion. Enemy snipers, shell
+fire, sickness and promotion had been at
+work. Dick acted as assistant adjutant for
+a couple of weeks and was then posted to
+a company as second in command and
+promised his step in rank at the earliest
+opportunity. In the same company was
+Lieut. Hiram Sill&#39;s platoon. Hiram, busy
+as ever, had distinguished himself several
+times since his return and was in a fair
+way to be recommended for a Military
+Cross.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The commander of the company was a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page242" id="page242"></a>[pg&nbsp;242]</span>
+middle-aged, amiable person who had been
+worked so hard during the past year that he
+had nothing left to carry on with except
+courage. At sight of Dick he rejoiced, for
+Dick had a big reputation. He took off
+his boots and belt, retired to his blankets and
+told his batman to wake him when the war
+was over. The relief was too much for
+him; it had come too late. The more he
+rested the worse he felt, and at last the
+medical officer sent him out on a stretcher.
+Fever and a general breakdown held him
+at the base for several weeks, and then he
+was shipped to Blighty. So Dick got
+a company and his third star, and no
+one begrudged him the one or the
+other.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The Canadian Corps worked all winter
+in preparation for its great spring task.
+The Germans fortified and intrenched and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page243" id="page243"></a>[pg&nbsp;243]</span>
+mightily garrisoned along all the great
+ridge of Vimy, harassed the preparing
+legions with shells and bombs and looked
+contemptuously out and down upon us from
+their strong vantage points. Others had
+failed to wrest Vimy from them. But
+night and day the Canadians went on with
+their preparations.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Word that the United States of America
+had declared war on Germany reached the
+toilers before Vimy on April 7; and within
+the week there came a night of gunfire that
+rocked the earth and tore the air. With
+morning the gunfire ceased, only to break
+forth again in lesser volume as the jumping
+barrages were laid along the ridge; and
+then, in a storm of wind and snow, the battalions
+went over on a five-division front,
+company after company, wave after wave,
+riflemen, bombers and Lewis gunners. The
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page244" id="page244"></a>[pg&nbsp;244]</span>
+Canadians were striking after their winter
+of drudgery.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">One of our men, a Yankee by birth, went
+over that morning with a miniature Stars
+and Stripes tied to his bayonet. We
+cleared out the Huns and took the ridge;
+and for days the water that filled the shell
+holes and mine craters over that ground
+was red with Canadian blood, and the plank
+roads were slippery with it from the passing
+of our wounded.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick went through that fight in front of
+his company and came out of it speechless
+with exhaustion, but unhit. Hiram Sill
+survived it with his arm in a sling. Maj.
+Henry Starkley was wounded again, again
+not seriously. Maj. Patrick Hammond was
+killed, and Corp. Jim Hammond was carried
+back the next day with a torn scalp and
+a crushed knee.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page245" id="page245"></a>[pg&nbsp;245]</span>
+On the tenth day after that battle Lieut.
+Hiram Sill and his company commander
+were the recipients of extraordinary news.
+Mr. Sill was requested to visit the colonel
+without loss of time. He turned up within
+the minute and saluted with his left
+hand.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You are wanted back in the U. S. A.,
+Hiram, for instructional purposes,&quot; said the
+colonel, looking over a mess of papers at his
+elbow. &quot;You don&#39;t have to go if you don&#39;t
+want to. Here it is&mdash;and to be made out
+in triplicate, of course.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram examined the papers.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;And here is something else that will interest
+you,&quot; continued the colonel. &quot;News
+for you and Dick Starkley. You have your
+M. C.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram&#39;s eyes shone.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;And Dick seems to have hooked the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page246" id="page246"></a>[pg&nbsp;246]</span>
+same for his work on the Somme&mdash;and I
+had given up all hope of that coming
+through. I recommended him for a D. S.
+O. last week. The way these recommendations
+for awards are handled beats me.
+They put them all into a hat and then
+chuck the hat out of the window, I guess,
+and whatever recommendations are picked
+up in the street and returned through the
+post are approved and acted upon. I know
+a chap&mdash;come back here!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram turned at the door of the hut.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Do you intend to accept that job?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;You have a choice between going over
+to the American army with your rank or
+simply being seconded from the Canadians
+for that duty. What do you mean
+to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Seconded, sir. I am an American citizen
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page247" id="page247"></a>[pg&nbsp;247]</span>
+clear through, colonel, but I have worn
+this cut of uniform too long to change it in
+this war.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram found Dick in his billet, reading
+a letter. Dick received the news of the
+awards and of Hiram&#39;s appointment very
+quietly.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Jack Davenport has gone west,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram sat down and stared at Dick without
+a word.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;This letter is from Kathleen,&quot; continued
+Dick. &quot;She says Jack went out on Monday
+to visit some of the people he helps.
+He had taken on six more widows and seven
+more babies since the Vimy show. On his
+way home toward evening he and Wilson
+were outside the Blackfriars underground
+station, looking for a taxi, when a lorry took
+a skid fair at an old woman and little boy
+who were just making the curb. Wilson
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page248" id="page248"></a>[pg&nbsp;248]</span>
+swears that Jack jumped from the curb as
+if there were nothing wrong with him,
+landed fair in front of the lorry, knocked
+the old woman and kid out from under, but
+fell before he could get clear himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Killed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Instantly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram gazed down at his muddy boots,
+and Dick continued to regard the letter in
+his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Can you beat it?&quot; said Hiram at last.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Dick got up and paced about the little
+room, busy with his thoughts. Finally he
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Sacobie is flying, and you are booked for
+the States, and I am going to transfer to
+Jack&#39;s old lot,&quot; he said slowly.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Hiram looked up at him, but did not
+speak.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Jack wanted me to,&quot; continued Dick.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page249" id="page249"></a>[pg&nbsp;249]</span>
+&quot;Well, why not? It&#39;s the same old army
+and the same old war. A fellow should
+make an effort to oblige a man like Jack&mdash;dead
+or alive.&quot; He was silent for several
+seconds, then went on: &quot;Henry has been
+offered a staff job in London. Peter is safe.
+Sacobie has brought down four Boche
+machines already. What have you heard
+about Jim Hammond?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;It&#39;s Blighty for him&mdash;and then Canada.
+He&#39;ll never in the world bend that leg
+again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">For a while Dick continued to pace back
+and forth across the muddy floor in silence.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;We are scattering, Old Psychology,&quot; he
+said. &quot;This war is a great scatterer&mdash;but
+there are some things it can&#39;t touch. You&#39;ll
+be homesick at your new job, Hiram,&mdash;and
+I&#39;ll be homesick with the Essex bunch, I
+suppose,&mdash;but there are some things that
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page250" id="page250"></a>[pg&nbsp;250]</span>
+make it all seem worth the rotten misery of
+it.&quot; He glanced down at Kathleen&#39;s letter,
+then put it into his pocket. &quot;Jack Davenport,
+for one,&quot; he ended.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;A soldier and a gentlemen,&quot; said Hiram.</p>
+
+<p class="center">THE END</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<div class="tnote">
+<h2>Transcriber Notes:</h2>
+
+<p class="indent">Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
+paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus
+the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in
+the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the
+same in the List of Illustrations and in the book.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Errors in punctuation and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On page 142, "comissions" was replaced with "commissions".</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On page 243, "harrassed" was replaced with "harassed".</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fighting Starkleys, by 
+Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 44185-h.htm or 44185-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/8/44185/
+
+Produced by Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
+
diff --git a/old/44185-h/images/i004.jpg b/old/44185-h/images/i004.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fd7b0e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h/images/i004.jpg
diff --git a/old/44185-h/images/i005.jpg b/old/44185-h/images/i005.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..30d27d4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h/images/i005.jpg
diff --git a/old/44185-h/images/i035.jpg b/old/44185-h/images/i035.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..30b1ea7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h/images/i035.jpg
diff --git a/old/44185-h/images/i065.jpg b/old/44185-h/images/i065.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..903140e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h/images/i065.jpg
diff --git a/old/44185-h/images/i167.jpg b/old/44185-h/images/i167.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75e254c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h/images/i167.jpg
diff --git a/old/44185-h/images/i259.jpg b/old/44185-h/images/i259.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f824dd2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h/images/i259.jpg
diff --git a/old/44185-h/images/iCover.jpg b/old/44185-h/images/iCover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e1c51d3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185-h/images/iCover.jpg
diff --git a/old/44185.txt b/old/44185.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..513e602
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4289 @@
+Project Gutenberg's The Fighting Starkleys, by Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Fighting Starkleys
+       or, The test of courage
+
+Author: Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+Illustrator: George Varian
+
+Release Date: November 15, 2013 [EBook #44185]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                         THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS
+
+
+
+
+                              _STORIES BY_
+
+                                _Captain
+                      Theodore Goodridge Roberts_
+
+
+                _Comrades of the Trails_             _$1.50_
+                _The Red Feathers_                    _1.65_
+                _Flying Plover_                       _1.35_
+                _The Fighting Starkleys_              _1.65_
+
+
+                           _THE PAGE COMPANY_
+                   _53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass._
+
+
+
+
+       [Illustration: "HE SAW HIS BOMB BURST BESIDE THE STUMP OF
+                      CHIMNEY."                    (_See page 194_)]
+
+
+
+
+                             _The_ FIGHTING
+                               STARKLEYS
+
+                       _Or, THE TEST OF COURAGE_
+
+                                   BY
+                   CAPTAIN THEODORE GOODRIDGE ROBERTS
+                               Author of
+    "Comrades of the Trails," "Red Feathers," "Flying Plover," etc.
+
+                             ILLUSTRATED BY
+                             GEORGE VARIAN
+
+                             [Illustration]
+
+                                 BOSTON
+                            THE PAGE COMPANY
+                               MDCCCCXXII
+
+
+
+
+                           _Copyright, 1920_,
+                         BY PERRY MASON COMPANY
+
+                           _Copyright, 1922_,
+                          BY THE PAGE COMPANY
+
+                         _All rights reserved_
+
+
+                             Made in U.S.A.
+
+                     First Impression, April, 1922
+
+
+                    PRINTED BY C. H. SIMONDS COMPANY
+                         BOSTON, MASS., U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+
+        CHAPTER                                                 PAGE
+
+           I. THE CALL COMES TO BEAVER DAM                         1
+
+          II. JIM HAMMOND DOES NOT RETURN TO DUTY                 29
+
+         III. THE VETERANS OF OTHER DAYS                          56
+
+          IV.  PRIVATE SILL ACTS                                  80
+
+           V. PETER'S ROOM IS AGAIN OCCUPIED                     109
+
+          VI. DAVE HAMMER GETS HIS COMMISSION                    131
+
+         VII. PETER WRITES A LETTER                              155
+
+        VIII. THE 26TH "MOPS UP"                                 178
+
+          IX. FRANK SACOBIE OBJECTS                              203
+
+           X. DICK OBLIGES HIS FRIEND                            225
+
+
+
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                               PAGE
+
+        "HE SAW HIS BOMB BURST BESIDE THE STUMP
+          OF CHIMNEY" (_See page 194_)            _Frontispiece_
+
+        "'I CAN'T MAKE YOU OUT,' SAID THE SERGEANT"           23
+
+        "'I'M HIT, BOYS!' HE SAID"                            50
+
+        "'HERE'S ONE OF THEM, SIR; AND THERE'S
+          MORE COMING,' SAID THE MAN OF MUD"                 150
+
+        "STANDING IN THE DOORWAY OF THE COMPARTMENT,
+          DICK SALUTED"                                      240
+
+
+
+
+                        =The Fighting Starkleys=
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I
+
+                      THE CALL COMES TO BEAVER DAM
+
+
+BEAVER DAM was a farm; but long before the day of John Starkley and his
+wife, Constance Emma, who lived there with their five children, the name
+had been applied to and accepted by a whole settlement of farms, a
+gristmill, a meetinghouse, a school and a general store. John Starkley
+was a farmer, with no other source of income than his wide fields.
+Considering those facts, it is not to be wondered at that his three boys
+and two girls had been bred to an active, early-rising, robust way of
+life from their early childhood.
+
+The original human habitation of Beaver Dam had been built of pine logs
+by John's grandfather, one Maj. Richard Starkley, and his friend and
+henchman, Two-Blanket Sacobie, a Malecite sportsman from the big river.
+The present house had been built only a few years before the major's
+death, by his sons, Peter and Richard, and a son of old Two-Blanket, of
+hand-hewn timbers, whipsawn boards and planks and hand-split shingles.
+But the older house still stands solid and true and weather-tight on its
+original ground; its lower floor is a tool house and general lumber room
+and its upper floor a granary.
+
+Soon after the completion of the new house the major's son Richard left
+Beaver Dam for the town of St. John, where he found employment with a
+firm of merchants trading to London, Spain and the West Indies. He was
+sent to Jamaica; and from that tropic isle he sent home, at one time and
+another, cases of guava jelly and "hot stuff," a sawfish's saw and half
+a dozen letters. From Jamaica he was promoted to London; and as the
+years passed, his letters became less and less frequent until they at
+last ceased entirely. So much for the major's son Richard.
+
+Peter stuck to the farm. He was a big, kind-hearted, quiet fellow, a
+hard worker, a great reader of his father's few books. He married the
+beautiful daughter of a Scotchman who had recently settled at Green
+Hill--a Scotchman with a red beard, a pedigree longer and a deal more
+twisted than the road to Fredericton, a mastery of the bagpipes, two
+hundred acres of wild land and an empty sporran. Of Peter Starkley and
+his beautiful wife, Flora, came John, who had his father's steadfastness
+and his mother's fire. He went farther afield for his wife than his
+father had gone--out to the big river, St. John, and down it many miles
+to the sleepy old village and elm-shaded meadows of Gagetown. It was a
+long way for a busy young farmer to go courting; but Constance Emma
+Garden was worth a thousand longer journeys.
+
+When Henry, the oldest of the five Starkley children, went to college to
+study civil engineering, sixteen-year-old Peter, fourteen-year-old
+Flora, twelve-year-old Dick and eight-year-old Emma were at home. Peter,
+who was done with school, did a man's work on the farm; he owned a
+sorrel mare with a reputation as a trotter, contemplated spending the
+next winter in the lumber woods and planned agriculture activities on a
+scale and of a kind to astonish his father.
+
+On a Saturday morning in June Dick and Flora, who were chums, got up
+even earlier than usual. They breakfasted by themselves in the summer
+kitchen of the silent house, dug earthworms in the rich brown loam of
+the garden and, taking their fishing rods from behind the door of the
+tool house, set out hurriedly for Frying Pan River. When they were
+halfway to the secluded stream they overtook Frank Sacobie, the
+great-grandson of Two-Blanket Sacobie, who had helped Maj. Richard
+Starkley build his house.
+
+The young Malecite's black eyes lighted pleasantly at sight of his
+friends, but his lips remained unsmiling. He was a very thin,
+small-boned, long-legged boy of thirteen, clothed in a checked cotton
+shirt and the cut-down trousers of an older Sacobie. He did not wear a
+hat. His straight black hair lay in a fringe just above his eyebrows.
+
+"Didn't you bring any worms?" asked Flora.
+
+"Nope," said Frank.
+
+"Or any luncheon?" asked Dick.
+
+"Nope," said Frank. "You two always fetch plenty worms and plenty grub."
+
+He led the way along a lumbermen's winter road, and at last they reached
+the Frying Pan. Baiting their hooks, they fell to fishing.
+
+The trout were plentiful in the Frying Pan; they bit, they yanked, they
+pulled. The three young fishers heaved them ashore by main force and
+awkwardness--as folk say round Beaver Dam--and by noon the three had as
+many fish as they could comfortably carry. So, winding up their lines,
+they washed their hands and sat down in a sunny place to lunch. All were
+wet, for all had fallen into the river more than once. Dick had his left
+hand in a bandage by that time; he had embedded a hook in the fleshy
+part of it and had dug it out with his jack-knife.
+
+"That's nothing! Just a scratch!" he said in the best offhand military
+manner. "My great-grandfather once had a Russian bayonet put clean
+through his shoulder."
+
+"Guess my great-gran'father did some fightin', too," remarked Frank
+Sacobie. "He was a big chief on the big river."
+
+"No, he didn't," said Dick. "He was a chief, all right; but there wasn't
+any fighting on the river in his day. He was Two-Blanket Sacobie. I've
+read all about him in my great-grandfather's diary."
+
+"Don't mean him," said Frank. "I mean Two-Blanket's father's father's
+father. His name was just Sacobie, and his mark was a red canoe. He
+fought the English and the Mohawks. All the Malecites on the big river
+were his people, and he was very good friend to the big French
+governors. The King of France sent him a big medal. My gran'mother told
+me all about it once. She said how Two-Blanket got his name because he
+sold that medal to a white man on the Oromocto for two blankets; and
+that was a long time ago--way back before your great-gran'father ever
+come to this country. I tell you, if I want to be a soldier, I bet I
+would make as good a soldier as Dick."
+
+"Bet you wouldn't," retorted Dick.
+
+"All right. I'm goin' to be a soldier--and you'll see. I'm going into
+the militia as soon as I'm old enough."
+
+"So'm I."
+
+Flora laughed. "Who will you fight with you when you are in the
+militia?" she asked.
+
+The boys exchanged embarrassed glances.
+
+"I guess the militia could fight all right if it had to," said Dick.
+
+"Of course it could," said Frank.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+For four years after the conversation that took place on the bank of
+Frying Pan River Flora and Dick and the rest of the Starkley family
+except Henry lived on in the quiet way of the folk at Beaver Dam. The
+younger children continued to go daily to school at the Crossroads, to
+take part in the lighter tasks of farm and house, to play and fish and
+argue and dream great things of the future.
+
+Peter spent each winter in the lumber woods. In his nineteenth year he
+invested his savings in a deserted farm near Beaver Dam and passed the
+greater part of the summer of 1913 in repairing the old barn on his new
+possession, cutting bushes out of the old meadows, mending fences and
+clearing land.
+
+That was only a beginning he said. He would own a thousand acres before
+long and show the people of Beaver Dam--including his own father--how to
+farm on a big scale and in an up-to-date manner.
+
+Henry, the eldest Starkley of this generation, had completed his course
+at college and got a job with a railway survey party in the upper valley
+of the big river. He proved himself to be a good engineer.
+
+In the spring of 1914 Frank Sacobie, now seventeen years of age, left
+Beaver Dam to work in a sawmill on the big river. Peter Starkley
+invested his winter's wages in another mare, two cows and a ton of
+chemical fertilizers. He ploughed ten acres of his meadows and sowed
+five with oats, four to buckwheat, and planted one to potatoes. The
+whole family was thrilled with the romance of his undertaking. His
+father helped him to put in his crop; and Dick and Flora found the
+attractions of Peter's farm irresistible. The very tasks that they
+classed as work at home they considered as play when performed at
+"Peter's place." In the romantic glow of Peter's agricultural beginning
+Dick almost resigned his military ambitions. But those ambitions were
+revived by Peter himself; and this is how it happened.
+
+Peter planned to raise horses, and he felt that the question what class
+of horse to devote his energies to was very important. One day late in
+June he met a stranger in the village of Stanley, and they "talked
+horse." The stranger advised Peter to visit King's County if he wanted
+knowledge on that subject.
+
+"Enlist in the cavalry," he said--"the 8th, Princess Louise, New
+Brunswick Hussars. That will give you a trip for nothin'--two weeks--and
+a dollar a day--and a chance to see every sort of horse that was ever
+bred in this province, right there in the regiment. Bring along a horse
+of your own, and the government will pay you another dollar a day for
+it--and feed it. I do it every year, just for a holiday and a bit of
+change."
+
+It sounded attractive to Peter, and two weeks later he and his black
+mare set off for King's County to join the regiment in its training
+camp. In his absence Dick and Flora looked after the sorrel mare, his
+cows and his farm. Two weeks later Peter and the mare returned; the mare
+was a little thinner than of old, and Peter was full of talk of horses
+and soldiering. Dick's military ambitions relit in him like an explosion
+of gunpowder.
+
+Then came word of the war to Beaver Dam.
+
+The folk of Beaver Dam, and of thousands of other rural communities,
+were busy with their haying when Canada offered a division to the mother
+country, for service in any part of the world. Militia officers posted
+through the country, seeking volunteers to cross the ocean and to bear
+arms against terrific Germany.
+
+Peter, now in his twentieth year, wished to join.
+
+"And what about your new farm and all your great plans?" asked John
+Starkley.
+
+"Dick and I will look after his farm for him," said Flora. "We can
+harvest his crops and--"
+
+Just then she looked at her mother and suddenly became silent. Mrs.
+Starkley's face was very white.
+
+"If the need for men from Canada is great, other divisions will be
+called for," said the father. "At present, only one division has been
+asked for--and I think that can easily be filled with seasoned
+militiamen."
+
+"Some one drove past the window!" exclaimed Flora.
+
+The door opened and a young man, in the khaki service uniform of an
+officer, entered the room. He halted, removed his cap and grinned
+broadly at the astonished family.
+
+"Henry!" cried Mrs. Starkley, pressing a hand swiftly and covertly to
+her side.
+
+Her husband found nothing to say just then. Dick and Flora and Emma ran
+to Henry and began asking questions and examining and fingering his
+belt, the leather strapping of his smart riding breeches, even his high,
+brown boots and shining spurs.
+
+"What are you, Henry?" asked Flora.
+
+"A sapper--an engineer."
+
+"Are you an officer?" asked Dick.
+
+"Lieutenant, 1st Field Company, Canadian Engineers--that's what I am.
+Hope you approve of my boots."
+
+"Are you going, Henry?" asked Peter, with a noticeable hitch in his
+voice and a curious expression of disappointment and relief in his eyes.
+
+"Yes, I'm to join my unit at the big mobilization camp in Quebec in ten
+days," replied Henry.
+
+John Starkley put a hand on Peter's shoulders. "Then you will wait,
+Peter," he said.
+
+"You're needed here--and we must keep you as long as we can. One at a
+time is enough."
+
+"I'll wait now, but I will go with the next lot," said Peter.
+
+Henry had nine days in which to arrange his affairs, and no affairs to
+arrange. He was in high spirits and proud of his commission, but he put
+on an old tweed suit the next morning and helped with the last of the
+haying on the home farm and on Peter's place. When the nine days were
+gone he donned his uniform again and drove away to the nearest railway
+station with his mother and father and little Emma. He wrote frequent
+entertaining letters from the big camp at Valcartier. On the 29th day of
+September he embarked at Quebec; the transports gathered in Gaspe Basin
+and were joined there by their escort of cruisers; the great fleet put
+out to sea--the greatest fleet that had ever crossed the
+Atlantic--bearing thirty-three thousand Canadian soldiers to the
+battlefields of Europe instead of the twenty thousand that had been
+originally promised.
+
+At Beaver Dam Peter worked harder than ever, but with a look in his eyes
+at times that seemed to carry beyond the job in hand. A few weeks ago he
+had experienced a pardonable glow of pride and self-satisfaction when
+people had pointed him out as the young fellow who had bought the old
+Smith place and who was going to farm in a big way; now it seemed to him
+that the only man worth pointing out was the man who had enlisted to
+fight the swarming legions of Germany.
+
+He did not invest in any more live stock that fall. He sold all of the
+oats and straw that he did not need for the wintering of his two mares
+and two cows. He did not look for a job in the lumber woods. His
+potatoes were a clean and heavy crop; and he went to Stanley to sell
+them. That was early in October.
+
+The storekeeper there was a man named Hammond, who dealt in farm produce
+on a large scale and who shipped to the cities of the province. He
+engaged to take Peter's crop at a good price, then talked about the war.
+One of his sons, a lieutenant in the militia, had sailed with the first
+contingent. They talked of that young man and Henry and others who had
+gone.
+
+"I am off with the next lot," said Peter.
+
+"That will be soon enough," said the merchant thoughtfully. "My
+daughter, Vivia, has been visiting in Fredericton, and she tells me
+there is talk of a second division already. Jim says he is going with
+the next lot, too. That will leave me without a son at all, but I
+haven't the face to try to talk him out of it."
+
+Peter accepted an invitation to have dinner with the Hammonds. He knew
+the other members of the family slightly--Mrs. Hammond, Vivia and Jim.
+Jim, who was a year or two older than Peter, was a thickset,
+dull-looking young man with a reputation as a shrewd trader. He was his
+father's chief assistant in the business. Patrick, the son who had
+sailed with the first contingent, had a reputation as a fisherman and
+hunter, which meant that he was considered as frivolous and that he had
+no standing at all as a business man. Vivia, the daughter, resembled
+Patrick rather than Jim. She was about seventeen years old. Peter, who
+had not seen her for twelve months, wondered how such a heavy duffer as
+Jim Hammond came by such a sister.
+
+During the meal Peter paid a great deal of attention to everything Vivia
+Hammond said, and Vivia did more talking than anyone else at the table;
+and yet by the time Peter was on the road for Beaver Dam he could not
+remember a dozen words of all the hundreds she had spoken. Likewise, he
+attended her with his eyes as faithfully as with his ears; and yet by
+the time he was halfway home his mind's picture of her was all gone to
+glimmering fragments. The more he concentrated his thoughts upon her the
+less clearly could he see her.
+
+He laughed at himself. He could not remember ever having been in a like
+difficulty before. Well, he could afford to laugh, for, after all, he
+lived within a reasonable distance of her and could drive over again any
+day if his defective memory troubled him seriously. And that is exactly
+what he did,--and on the very next day at that,----half believing even
+himself that he went to talk about enlisting, and the war in general,
+with her heavy brother. He did not see Jim on that occasion, and during
+a ten-minutes' interview with Vivia he did not say more than a dozen
+words.
+
+On the 4th of November Peter read in the Fredericton Harvester that
+recruiting had begun in the city of St. John for the 26th Infantry
+Battalion, a newly authorized unit for overseas service. The family
+circle at Beaver Dam sat up late that night. Peter talked excitedly, and
+the others listened in silence. Dick's eyes shone in the lamplight.
+
+Peter drove over to Stanley early the next morning and there took the
+train to Fredericton, and from Fredericton to St. John. He felt no
+military thrill. Loneliness and homesickness weighed on him
+already--loneliness for his people, for the wide home kitchen and bright
+sitting-room, for his own fields.
+
+He reached the big city by the sea after dark. The traffic of the hard
+streets, the foggy lights and the heedless, hurrying crowds of people
+added bewilderment to his loneliness. With his baggage at his feet, he
+stood in the station and gazed miserably around.
+
+Peter Starkley did not stand there unnoticed. Dozens of the people who
+pushed past him eyed him with interest and wondered what he was waiting
+for. He was so evidently not of the city. He looked at once rustic and
+distinguished. But no one spoke to him until a sergeant in a khaki
+service uniform caught sight of him.
+
+"I can't make you out," said the sergeant, stepping up to him.
+
+      [Illustration: "'I CAN'T MAKE YOU OUT,' SAID THE SERGEANT."]
+
+"I can place you," he said. "You're a sergeant."
+
+"Right," returned the other. "And you're from the country. Your big felt
+hat tells me so--and your tanned face. But I can see that you're a
+person of some importance where you come from."
+
+Peter blushed. "I am a farmer and a trooper in the 8th Hussars, and I
+have come here to enlist for overseas with the new infantry battalion,"
+he said.
+
+"That's what I hoped!" exclaimed the sergeant. "Come along with me, lad.
+You are for the 26th Canadian Overseas Infantry Battalion."
+
+The sergeant, whose name was Hammer, was a cheery, friendly fellow. He
+was also a very keen soldier and entertained a high opinion of the
+military qualities of the new battalion. On reaching the armory of the
+local militia regiment, now being used as headquarters of the new unit,
+Hammer led Peter straight to the medical officer. The doctor found
+nothing the matter with the recruit from Beaver Dam. Then Hammer paraded
+him before the adjutant. Peter answered a few questions, took a solemn
+oath and signed a paper.
+
+"Now you're a soldier, a regular soldier," said the sergeant and slapped
+him on the back. "Come along now, and in half an hour I'll have you
+fitted into a uniform as trim as my own."
+
+Within a month Peter Starkley had distinguished himself as a steady
+soldier; he had attained to the rank of lance corporal, and then of
+corporal. His steadiness was largely owing to homesickness. Of his few
+intimates the closest was Sergt. Hammer.
+
+Jim Hammond did not join the regiment until close upon Christmas. He was
+found physically fit; and, as a result of a request made by Peter to
+Hammer and by the sergeant to Lieut. Scammell, and by the lieutenant to
+the adjutant, he became a member of the same platoon as Peter. Not only
+that, he became one of Hammer's section, in which Peter was a corporal.
+
+Peter felt that he should like to be good friends with Jim Hammond, but
+he did not give a definite reason even to himself for that wish. Jim, in
+his own person, was not attractive to him. Peter felt misgivings when
+Jim, within two days of donning his uniform, began to grumble about the
+severity of the training. Three days later Dave Hammer, in his official
+capacity as a section commander, fell upon Jim Hammond in his official
+capacity as a private soldier. Reason and justice, as well as authority,
+were with the sergeant. Jim came to Peter that evening.
+
+"Look a-here, who does Dave Hammer think he is, anyhow?" he asked.
+
+"I guess he knows who he is," replied Peter.
+
+"Well, whoever he is," Hammond declared wrathfully, "I won't be bawled
+out by him. I guess I'm as good a man as he is--and better."
+
+"You'll have lots of chances, from now on, to show how good a man you
+are. Acting as you did on the route march this afternoon doesn't show
+it."
+
+Hammond's face darkened.
+
+"Is that so?" he retorted. "Well, I'll tell you now I didn't come
+soldiering to be taught my business by you or any other bushwhacker from
+Beaver Dam. You got two stripes, I see. I'd have two stars if I took to
+licking people's boots the way you do, Peter Starkley."
+
+Peter bent forward, and his lean face hardened, and his dark eyes
+glinted coldly.
+
+"I don't want to have trouble with you, Jim," he said, and his voice was
+no more than a whisper, "but it will happen if you don't look out. I
+don't lick any man's boots! If I hear another word like that out of you,
+I'll lick something--and that will be you! Do you get me?"
+
+He looked dangerous. Hammond tried to glare him down, but failed.
+Hammond's own eyes wavered. He grunted and turned away. The next morning
+he applied for a Christmas pass, which was refused on the ground that
+the men who had joined first should be the first to receive passes. He
+felt thoroughly ill-used.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER II
+
+                      JIM HAMMOND DOES NOT RETURN
+                                TO DUTY
+
+
+PETER STARKLEY got home to Beaver Dam for New Year's Day on a six days'
+pass. Jim Hammond had also tried to get a pass, but he had failed. Peter
+found his homesickness increased by those six days; but he made every
+effort to hide his emotions. He talked bravely of his duties and his
+comrades, and especially of Dave Hammer. He said nothing about Jim
+Hammond except when questioned, and then as little as possible.
+
+He polished his buttons and badges every morning and rolled his putties
+as if for parade. The smartness of his carriage gave a distinction even
+to the unlovely khaki service uniform of a British noncommissioned
+officer. He looked like a guardsman and felt like a schoolboy who
+dreaded the approaching term. He haunted the barns and stables of the
+home farm and of his own place and tramped the snow-laden woods and
+blanketed fields. In spite of his efforts to think only of the harsh and
+foreign task before him, he dreamed of clearings here and crops there.
+The keen, kindly eyes of his parents saw through to his heart.
+
+One day of the six he spent in the village of Stanley. He called first
+at Hammond's store, where he tried to give Mr. Hammond the impression
+that he had dropped in casually, but as he had nothing to sell and did
+not wish to buy anything he failed to hoodwink the storekeeper. Mr.
+Hammond was cordial, but seemed worried.
+
+He complimented Peter on his promotion and his soldierly appearance.
+
+"Glad you got home," he said. "Wish Jim could have come along with you,
+but he writes as how they won't give him a pass. Seems to me it ain't
+more than only fair to let all the boys come home for Christmas or New
+Year's."
+
+"Then there wouldn't be any one left to carry on," said Peter. "They've
+fixed it so that those who have been longest on the job get the first
+passes; but I guess every one will get home for a few days before we
+sail."
+
+"Jim says the training--the drill and all that--is mighty hard,"
+continued Mr. Hammond.
+
+"Some find it so, and some don't," replied Peter awkwardly. "I guess
+it's what you might call a matter of taste."
+
+"Like enough," said the storekeeper, scratching his chin. "It's a matter
+of taste--and not to Jim's taste, that's sure."
+
+Peter felt relieved to see that Mr. Hammond seemed to understand the
+case. He was about to elaborate on the subject of military training when
+a middle-aged man wearing a bowler hat and a fur-lined overcoat turned
+from the counter. He had a square, clean-shaven face and very bright and
+active black eyes.
+
+"Excuse me, corporal," the stranger said, "but may I horn in and inquire
+what you think of it yourself?"
+
+"You can ask if you want to, Mr. Sill," said Mr. Hammond, "but you won't
+hear any kick out of Peter Starkley, whether he likes it or not."
+
+"It's easier than working in the woods, either chopping or teaming,"
+said Peter pleasantly, "and I'll bet a dollar it is a sight easier than
+the real fighting will be."
+
+"That's the way to look at it, corporal," said the stranger. "I guess
+that in a war like this a man has to make up his mind to take the fun
+and the ferocity, the music and the mud, and the pie and the pain, just
+as they come."
+
+"I guess so," said Peter.
+
+The stranger shook his hand cordially and just before he turned away
+remarked, "Maybe you and I will meet again sooner than you expect."
+
+"Who is he, and what's he driving at?" asked Peter, when the stranger
+had left the store.
+
+"He is a Yank, and a traveler for Maddock & Co. of St. John, and his
+name is Hiram Sill--but I don't know what he is driving at any more than
+you do," replied Mr. Hammond.
+
+The storekeeper invited Peter to call round at the house and to stay to
+dinner and for as long as he liked afterwards. Peter accepted the
+invitation. The Hammond house stood beside the store, but farther back
+from the road. It was white and big, with a veranda in front of it, a
+row of leafless maples, a snowdrifted lawn and a picket fence. Vivia
+Hammond opened the door to his ring. From behind the curtain of the
+parlor window she had seen him approach.
+
+At dinner Peter talked more than was usual with him; something in the
+way the girl listened to him inspired him to conversation. At two
+o'clock he accompanied her to the river and skated with her. They had
+such parts of the river as were not drifted with snow to themselves,
+except for two little boys. The little boys, interested in Peter as a
+military man, kept them constantly in sight. Peter felt decidedly
+hostile toward those harmless boys, but he was too shy to mention it to
+Vivia. He was delighted and astonished when she turned upon them at last
+and said:
+
+"Billy Brandon, you and Jack had better take off your skates and go
+home."
+
+"I guess we got as much right as anybody on this here river," replied
+Billy Brandon, but there was a lack of conviction in his voice.
+
+"You were both in bed with grippe only last week," Vivia retorted; "but
+I'll call in at your house and ask your mother about it on my way up the
+hill."
+
+The little boys had nothing to say to that. They maintained a casual
+air, skated in circles and figures for a few minutes and then went home.
+For ten minutes after that the corporal and the girl skated in an
+electrical silence, looking everywhere except at each other. Then Peter
+ventured a slanting glance across his left shoulder at her little
+fur-cuddled face. Their eyes met.
+
+"Poor Mrs. Brandon can't manage those boys," she said. "But they are
+very good boys, really. They do everything I tell them."
+
+"Why shouldn't they? But I'm glad they're gone, anyway," he replied, in
+a voice that seemed to be tangled and strangled in the collar of his
+greatcoat.
+
+When Vivia and Peter returned to the house the eastern sky was eggshell
+green and the west, low along the black forests, as red as the draft of
+a stove. Their conversation had never fully recovered after the incident
+of the two little boys. Wonderful and amazing thoughts and emotions
+churned round in Peter's head and heart, but he did not venture to give
+voice to them. They bewildered him. He stayed to tea and at that
+comfortable meal Mr. and Mrs. Hammond did the talking. Vivia and Peter
+looked at each other only shyly as if they were afraid of what they
+might see in each other's eyes.
+
+At last Peter went to the barn and harnessed the mare. Then he returned
+to the house to say good night to the ladies. That accomplished, Vivia
+accompanied him to the front door. Beyond the front door, as a
+protection against icy winds and drifting snow, was the winter
+porch--not much bigger than a sentry box. Stepping across the threshold,
+from the warm hall into the porch, Peter turned and clutched and held
+the girl's hand across the threshold. The tumult of his heart flooded up
+and smothered the fear in his brain.
+
+"I never spent such a happy day in all my life," he said.
+
+Vivia said nothing. And then the mischief got into the elbow of the
+corporal's right arm. It twitched; and, since his right hand still
+clasped Vivia's hand, the girl was jerked, with a little skip, right out
+of the hall and into the boxlike porch.
+
+Two seconds later Peter pulled open the porch door and dashed into the
+frosty night. He jumped into the pung, and away went the mare as if
+something of her master's madness had been communicated to her. The
+corporal had kissed Vivia!
+
+Peter returned to his battalion two days later. In St. John he found
+everything much as usual. Hammer was as brisk and soldierly as ever, but
+Jim Hammond was more sulky than before. Peter considered the battalion
+with a new interest. Life, even away from Beaver Dam, seemed more worth
+while, and he went at his work with a jump. He wrote twice a week to
+Vivia, spending hours in the construction of each letter and yet always
+leaving out the things that he wanted most to write. The girl's replies
+were the results of a similar literary method.
+
+The training of the battalion went on, indoors and out, day after day.
+In March, Jim Hammond went home for six days. By that time he was known
+throughout the battalion as a confirmed sulker. The six days passed; the
+seventh day came and went without sight or news of him, and then the
+adjutant wired to Mr. Hammond. No reply came from the storekeeper.
+Lieut. Scammell questioned Peter about the family. Peter told what he
+knew--that the Hammonds were fine people, that one son was an officer
+already in England, and that the father was an honest and patriotic
+citizen. So another wire was sent from the orderly room. That, like the
+first, failed to produce results.
+
+The adjutant, Capt. Long, then sent for Peter. This officer was not much
+more than five feet high, despite the name of his fathers, and was built
+in proportion. It tickled the humor of the men to see such a little
+fellow chase ten hundred bigger fellows round from morning until night.
+
+"You are to go upriver and find out why Private Hammond has not returned
+to duty," said the captain.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Peter.
+
+"Inform me by wire," continued the captain. "Use your brains. I am
+sending you alone, because I want to give Hammond a chance for the sake
+of his brother overseas. Here are your pass, your railway warrant and a
+chit for the paymaster. That's all, Corp. Starkley."
+
+Peter saluted and retired. He reached Fredericton that night and the
+home village of Jim Hammond by noon of the next day. He went straight to
+the store, where Mr. Hammond greeted him with astonishment. Peter saw no
+sign of Jim.
+
+"I didn't expect to see you back so soon," said Mr. Hammond.
+
+"I got a chance, so I took it," replied Peter. "How's all the family?"
+
+The storekeeper smiled. "The womenfolk are well," he said.
+
+Peter saw that he had come suddenly to the point where he must exercise
+all the tact he possessed. He felt keenly embarrassed.
+
+"Did you get a telegram?" he asked.
+
+"No. Did you wire us you were coming?"
+
+"Not that, exactly. You see, it was like this, Mr. Hammond: when Jim
+didn't get back the day he was due the adjutant sent you a wire, and
+when he didn't get an answer he sent another--and when you didn't reply
+to that he detailed me to come along and see what was wrong."
+
+The storekeeper stared at him. "I never got any telegram. Jim came home
+on two weeks' furlough, and he has five days of it left. You and your
+adjutant must be crazy."
+
+"Two weeks," repeated Peter. "It was six days he got."
+
+"Six days! Are you sure of that, Peter Starkley?"
+
+"As sure as that's my name, Mr. Hammond. And the adjutant sent you two
+telegrams, asking why Jim didn't return to duty when his pass was
+up--and he didn't get any answer. If you didn't get one or other of
+those telegrams, then there is something wrong somewhere."
+
+Mr. Hammond's face clouded. "I didn't get any wire, Peter--and Jim went
+away day before yesterday, to visit some friends," he said.
+
+They eyed each other in silence for a little while; both were bitterly
+embarrassed, and the storekeeper was numbed with shame.
+
+"I'll go for him," he said. "If I fetch him to you here, will you
+promise to--to keep the truth of it quiet, Peter--from his mother and
+sister and the folk about here?"
+
+"I'll do the best I can," promised the corporal, "but not for Jim's
+sake, mind you, Mr. Hammond. Capt. Long is for giving him a chance
+because of his brother, Pat, over on Salisbury Plain--and that's why he
+sent me alone, instead of sending a sergeant with an escort."
+
+"I'll go fetch him, Peter," said the other, in a shaking voice. "You go
+along to Beaver Dam and come back to-morrow--to see Vivia. When Jim and
+I turn up you meet him just like it was by chance. Keep your mouth shut,
+Peter. Not a word to a living soul about his only having six days. He's
+not well, and that's the truth."
+
+A dull anger was awake in Peter by this time.
+
+"Something the matter with his feet," he said and left the store.
+
+Here he was, told to be tactful by Capt. Long and to keep his mouth shut
+by Mr. Hammond, all on account of a sulky, lazy, bad-tempered fellow who
+had been a disgrace to the battalion since the day he joined it. And not
+a word about stopping for dinner!
+
+He crossed the road to the hotel, made arrangements to be driven out to
+Beaver Dam and then ate a lonely dinner. He thought of Vivia Hammond
+only a few yards away from him, yet unconscious of his proximity--and he
+wanted to punch the head of her brother Jim. He drove away from the
+hotel up the long hill without venturing a glance at the windows of the
+big white house on the other side of the road.
+
+The family at Beaver Dam accepted his visit without question. No mention
+was made of Jim Hammond that night. Peter was up and out early the next
+morning, lending a hand with the feeding and milking.
+
+After breakfast he and Dick went over to his own place to have a look at
+his house and barns.
+
+"Frank Sacobie came home last week," said Dick. "He's been out to see us
+twice. He wants to enlist in your outfit, but I am trying to hold him
+off till next year so's we can go over together."
+
+"You babies had better keep your bibs on a few years longer," said
+Peter. "I guess there will be lots of time for all of you to fight in
+this war without forcing yourselves under glass."
+
+They rounded a spur of spruces and saw Sacobie approaching on snowshoes
+across the white meadows. He had grown taller and deeper in the chest
+since Peter had last seen him. The greeting was cordial but not wordy.
+Sacobie turned and accompanied them.
+
+"I see Jim Hammond yesterday, out Pike Settlement way," he said.
+
+"That so?" returned Peter, trying to seem uninterested.
+
+"No uniform on, neither, and drinkin' some," continued Sacobie. "Says
+he's got his discharge from that outfit because it ain't reckoned as
+first-class and has been asked to be an officer in another outfit."
+
+Then Peter forgot his instructions. Jim Hammond too good for the 26th
+battalion! Jim Hammond offered a commission! His indignant heart sent
+his blood racing through him.
+
+"He's a liar!" he cried. "Yes, and a deserter, too, by thunder!"
+
+Dick was astonished, but Frank Sacobie received the information calmly,
+without so much as a flicker of the eyelids.
+
+"I think that all the time I listen to him," he said. "I figger to get
+his job, anyway, if he lie or tell the truth. I go down to-morrow,
+Peter, and you tell the colonel how I make a darn sight better soldier
+than Jim Hammond."
+
+Peter gripped the others each by an arm.
+
+"I shouldn't have said that," he cautioned them. "Forget it! You boys
+have got to keep it under your hats, but I guess it's up to me to take a
+jog out Pike Settlement way. If you boys say a word about it, you get in
+wrong with me and you get me in wrong with a whole heap of folks."
+
+They turned and went back to Beaver Dam. There they hitched the mares to
+the big red pung and stowed in their blankets and half a bag of oats.
+
+"I can't tell you where I'm going or what for, but only that it is a
+military duty," said Peter in answer to the questions of the family.
+
+He took Dick and Frank Sacobie with him. Once they got beyond the
+outskirts of the home settlement they found heavy sledding. At noon they
+halted, blanketed and baited the mares, boiled the kettle and lunched.
+The wide, white roadway before them, winding between walls of
+green-black spruces and gray maples, was marked with only the tracks of
+one pair of horses and one pair of sled runners--evidently made the day
+before. Peter guessed them to be those of Mr. Hammond's team, but he
+said nothing about that to his companions.
+
+Here and there they passed drifted clearings and little houses sending
+blue feathers of smoke into the bright air. They came to places where
+the team that had passed the previous day had been stuck in the drifts
+and laboriously dug out.
+
+They were within two miles of the settlement, between heavy woods
+fronted with tangled alders, when the cracking _whang!_ of exploding
+cordite sounded in the underbrush. The mares plunged, then stood. The
+reins slipped from Peter's mittened hands.
+
+"I'm hit, boys!" he said and then sagged over across Dick's knees.
+
+              [Illustration: "'I'M HIT, BOYS!' HE SAID."]
+
+They laid him on hay and horse blankets in the bottom of the pung and
+covered him with fur robes. Then Sacobie got up in front and drove.
+
+No sound except the rapping of a woodpecker came from the woods. Peter
+breathed regularly. Presently he opened his eyes.
+
+"It's in the ribs, by the feel of it--but it doesn't hurt much," he
+said. "Felt like a kick from a horse at first. Remember not to say
+anything about Jim Hammond."
+
+They put him to bed at the first farmhouse they reached. All his
+clothing on the right side was stiff with blood. Dick bandaged the
+wound; and a doctor arrived two hours later. The bullet had nipped in
+and out, splintering a rib, and lay just beneath the skin. Peter had
+bled a good deal, but not to a dangerous extent.
+
+Before sunrise the next morning Dick and Frank Sacobie set out on their
+return journey, taking with them a brief telegram and a letter for Capt.
+Long. Peter had dictated the message, but had written the letter with
+great effort, one wavery word after another.
+
+Mr. Hammond and John Starkley reached Pike Settlement late at night. The
+storekeeper seemed broken in spirit, but some color came back to his
+face when he saw Peter lying there in the bed at the farmhouse with as
+cheerful an air as if he had only strained his ankle.
+
+"I must see you a few minutes alone before I leave," he whispered,
+stooping over the bed.
+
+"Don't worry," answered Peter.
+
+John Starkley was vastly relieved to find his son doing so well. His
+bewilderment that any one in that country should pull a trigger on Peter
+almost swamped his indignation. The more he thought it over the more
+bewildered he became.
+
+"You haven't an enemy in the world, Peter--except the Germans," he said.
+"But that was no chance shot. If it had been an accident, the fellow
+with the rifle would have come out to lend a hand."
+
+"I guess that's so," replied Peter. "Maybe it was a German. It means a
+lot to the Kaiser to keep me out of this war."
+
+His father smiled. "Joking aside, lad," he said, "who do you suppose it
+was? What was the bullet? Many a murderer has been traced before now on
+a less likely clue than a bullet."
+
+"Isn't the bullet on the table there, Mr. Hammond? The doctor gave it to
+me, and I chucked it somewhere--over there or somewhere."
+
+They looked in vain for the bullet. Later, when the guests and the
+household were at supper, Mr. Hammond excused himself from table and ran
+up to Peter's room. He closed the door behind him, leaned over the bed
+and grasped Peter's left hand in both of his.
+
+"I did my best," he whispered. "I found him and told him you had been
+sent because the officer wanted to give him a chance. But he had been
+drinking heavy. He wasn't himself, Peter--he was like a madman. I begged
+him to come back with me, but he wouldn't hear reason or kindness. He
+knocked me down--me, his own father--and got away from that house. What
+are you going to do, Peter? You are a man, Starkley--a big man--big
+enough to be merciful. What d'you mean to do?"
+
+"Nothing," said Peter. "I came to find Jim, and I haven't found him. I
+got shot instead by some one I haven't seen hair, hide or track of. It's
+up to the army to find Jim, if they still want him; but as far as I am
+concerned he may be back with the battalion this minute for all I know.
+I hope he is. As for the fellow who made a target of me, well, he didn't
+kill me, and I don't hold a grudge against him."
+
+Mr. Hammond went home the first thing in the morning. John Starkley
+waited until the doctor called again and dressed the wound and said he
+had never seen any one take a splintered rib and a hole in the side so
+well as Peter.
+
+"If he keeps on like this, you'll be able to take him home in ten days
+or so," said the doctor.
+
+So John Starkley returned to Beaver Dam, delivered the good news to his
+family and heard in return that young Frank Sacobie had gone to St. John
+and joined the 26th.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III
+
+                       THE VETERANS OF OTHER DAYS
+
+
+WHEN Peter was able to travel, he was taken home to Beaver Dam, and
+there a medical officer, a major in spurs, examined him and
+congratulated him on being alive. Peter was given six months' sick
+leave; and that, he knew, killed his chance of crossing the ocean with
+his battalion. He protested, but the officer told him that, whether in
+bed in his father's house or with his platoon, he was still in the army
+and would have to do as he was told. The officer said it kindly and
+added that as soon as he was fit he should return to his battalion,
+whether it was in Canada, England or Flanders.
+
+Jim Hammond vanished. The army marked him as a deserter, and even his
+own battalion forgot him. Confused rumors circulated round his home
+village for a little while and then faded and expired. As Jim Hammond
+vanished from the knowledge and thought of men, so vanished the
+mysterious rifleman who had splintered Peter's rib.
+
+Spring brought the great news of the stand of the First Canadian
+Division at Ypres--the stand of the few against the many, of the
+Canadian militia against the greatest and most ruthless fighting machine
+of the whole world. The German army was big and ready, but it was not
+great as we know greatness now. The little Belgians had already checked
+it and pierced the joints of its armor; the French had beaten it against
+odds; the little old army of England, with its monocles and its tea and
+its pouter-chested sergeant majors, had outshot it and outfought it at
+every meeting; and now three brigades of Canadian infantry and a few
+batteries of Canadian artillery had stood undaunted before its deluge of
+metal and strangling gas and held it back from the open road to Calais
+and Paris.
+
+Lieut. Pat Hammond wrote home about the battle. He had been in the edge
+of it and had escaped unhurt. Henry Starkley, of the First Field
+Company, was there, too. He received a slight wound. Private letters and
+the great stories of the newspapers thrilled the hearts of thousands of
+peaceful, unheroic folk. Volunteers flowed in from lumber camps and
+farms.
+
+In May Dick Starkley made the great move of his young life. He was now
+seventeen years old and sound and strong. He saw that Peter could not
+get away with his battalion--that, unless something unexpected happened,
+the Second Canadian Division would get away without a Starkley of Beaver
+Dam.
+
+So he did the unexpected thing: he went away to St. John without a word,
+introduced himself to Sgt. Dave Hammer as Peter's brother, added a year
+to his age and became a member of the 26th Battalion. He found Frank
+Sacobie there, already possessed of all the airs of an old soldier.
+
+Dick sent a telegram to his father and a long, affectionate, confused
+letter to his mother. His parents understood and forgave and went to St.
+John and told him so--and Peter sent word that he, too, understood; and
+Dick was happy. Then with all his thought and energy and ambition he set
+to work to make himself a good soldier.
+
+Peter did not grumble again about his sick leave. His wound healed; and
+as the warm days advanced he grew stronger with every day. He had been
+wounded in the performance of his duty as surely as if a German had
+fired the shot across the mud of No Man's Land; so he accepted those
+extra months in the place and life he loved with a gratitude that was
+none the less deep for being silent.
+
+In June the Battalion embarked for England, in strength eleven hundred
+noncommissioned officers and men and forty-two officers. After an
+uneventful voyage of eleven days they reached Devenport, in England, on
+the twenty-fourth day of the month. The three other battalions of the
+brigade had reached England a month before; the 26th joined them at the
+training camps in Kent and immediately set to work to learn the science
+of modern warfare. They toiled day and night with vigor and constancy;
+and before fall the battalion was declared efficient for service at the
+front.
+
+Both Dick Starkley and Frank Sacobie throve on the hard work. The
+musketry tests proved Sacobie to be one of the best five marksmen in the
+battalion. Dick was a good shot, too, but fell far below his friend at
+the longer ranges. In drill, bombing and physical training, Dick showed
+himself a more apt pupil than the Malecite. At trench digging and route
+marching there was nothing to choose between them, in spite of the fact
+that Sacobie had the advantage of a few inches in length of leg. Both
+were good soldiers, popular with their comrades and trusted by their
+officers. Both were in Dave Hammer's section and Mr. Scammell's platoon.
+
+One afternoon in August Henry Starkley turned up at Westenhanger, on
+seven days' leave from France. He looked years older than when Dick had
+last seen him and thinner of face, and on his left breast was stitched
+the ribbon of the military cross. He obtained a pass for Dick and took
+him up to London. They put up at a quiet hotel off the Strand, at which
+Henry had stopped on his frequent week-end visits to town from Salisbury
+Plain. As they were engaged in filling in the complicated and exhaustive
+registration form the hall porter gave Henry three letters and told him
+that a gentleman had called several times to see him.
+
+"What name?" asked Henry.
+
+"That he didn't tell me, sir," replied the porter, "but as it was him
+wrote the letters you have in your hand you'll soon know, sir."
+
+Henry opened one of the envelopes and turned the inclosure over in quest
+of the writer's signature. There it was--J. A. Starkley-Davenport. All
+three letters were from the same hand, penned at dates several weeks
+apart. They said that before her marriage the writer's mother had been a
+Miss Mary Starkley, daughter of a London merchant by the name of Richard
+Starkley. Richard Starkley, a colonial by birth with trade connections
+with the West Indies, had come from Beaver Dam in the province of New
+Brunswick. The letters said further that their writer had read in the
+casualty lists the name of Lieut. Henry Starkley of the Canadian
+Engineers, and that after diligent inquiry he had learned that this same
+officer had registered at the Canadian High Commissioner's office in
+October, 1914, and given his London address as the Tudor Hotel. Failing
+to obtain any further information concerning Henry Starkley, the writer
+had kept a constant eye on the Tudor Hotel. He begged Mr. Henry Starkley
+to ring up Mayfair 2607, without loss of time, should any one of these
+letters ever come to his hand.
+
+"What's his hurry, I wonder?" remarked Henry. "After three generations
+without a word I guess he'll have to wait until to-morrow morning to
+hear from the Starkleys of Beaver Dam."
+
+"Why not let him wait for three more generations?" suggested Dick. "His
+grandfather, that London merchant, soon forgot about the people back in
+the woods at Beaver Dam. Since the second battle of Ypres, this lad with
+the hitched-up-double name wants to be seen round with you, Henry."
+
+"If that's all, he does not want much," said Henry. "We'll take a look
+at him, anyway. Don't forget that the first Starkley of Beaver Dam was
+once an English soldier and that there was a first battle of Ypres
+before there was a second."
+
+The brothers, the lieutenant of engineers and the infantry private, had
+dinner at a restaurant where there were shaded candles and music; then
+they went to a theater. Although the war was now only a year old, London
+had already grown accustomed to the "gentleman ranker." Brothers,
+cousins and even sons of officers in the little old army were now
+private soldiers and noncommissioned officers in the big new army. The
+uniform was the great thing. Rank badges denoted differences of degree,
+not of kind. So Lieut. Henry Starkley and Private Dick Starkley,
+together at their little luxurious table for two and later elbow to
+elbow at the theater, did not cause comment. Immediately after breakfast
+the next morning Henry rang up the Mayfair number. A voice of inquiring
+deference, a voice that suggested great circumspection and extreme
+polish, answered him. Henry asked for Mr. Starkley-Davenport.
+
+"You want the captain, sir," corrected the voice. "Mr. David was killed
+at Ypres in '14. What name, sir?"
+
+"Starkley," replied Henry.
+
+"Of Canada, sir? Of Beaver Dam? Here is the captain, sir."
+
+Another voice sounded in Henry's ear, asking whether it was Henry
+Starkley of the sappers on the other end of the line. Henry replied in
+the affirmative.
+
+"It is Jack Davenport speaking--Starkley-Davenport," continued the
+voice. "Glad you have my letters at last. Are you at the same hotel? Can
+you wait there half an hour for me?"
+
+"I'll wait," said Henry.
+
+He and Dick awaited the arrival of the grandson of Richard Starkley with
+lively curiosity. That he was a captain, and that some one connected
+with him, perhaps a brother, had been killed at Ypres in 1914, added
+considerable interest to him in their eyes.
+
+"Size him up before trying any of your old-soldier airs on him, young
+fellow," warned Henry.
+
+They sat in the lounge of the hotel and kept a sharp watch on everyone
+who entered by the revolving doors. It was a quiet place, as hotels go
+in London, but during the half hour of their watching more people than
+the entire population of Beaver Dam were presented to their scrutiny. At
+last a pale young fellow in a Panama hat and a gray-flannel suit
+entered. Under his left shoulder was a crutch and in his right hand a
+big, rubber-shod stick. His left knee was bent, and his left foot swung
+clear of the ground. His hands were gloved in gray, and he wore a
+smoke-blue flower in his buttonhole. Only his necktie was out of tone
+with the rest of his equipment: it was in stripes of blue and red and
+yellow. Behind him, close to his elbow, came a thin, elderly man who was
+dressed in black.
+
+"Lieut. Starkley?" he inquired of the hall porter.
+
+At that Henry and Dick both sprang to their feet and went across to the
+man in gray. Before they could introduce themselves the young stranger
+edged himself against his elderly companion, thus making a prop of him,
+hooked the crook of his stick into a side pocket of his coat, and
+extended his right hand to Henry. He did it all so swiftly and smoothly
+that it almost escaped notice; and, pitiful as it was, it almost escaped
+pity.
+
+"Will you lunch with me--if you have nothing better to do?" he asked.
+"You're on leave, I know, and it sounds cheek to ask--but I want to talk
+to you about something rather important."
+
+"Of course--and here is my young brother," said Henry.
+
+The captain shook hands with Dick and then stared at him.
+
+"You are only a boy," he said; and then, seeing the blood mount to
+Dick's tanned cheeks, he continued, "and all the better for that,
+perhaps. The nippiest man in my platoon was only nineteen."
+
+"Of course you remember, sir, Mr. David had not attained his twentieth
+birthday," the elderly man in black reminded him.
+
+"You are right, Wilson," said the captain. "Hit in October, '14. He was
+my young brother. There were just the two of us. Shall we toddle along?
+I kept my taxi."
+
+Capt. J. A. Starkley-Davenport occupied three rooms and a bath in his
+own house, which was a big one in a desirable part of town. The
+remaining rooms were occupied by his servants. And such servants!
+
+The cook was so poor a performer that whenever the captain had guests
+for luncheon or dinner she sent out to a big hotel near by for the more
+important dishes--but her husband had been killed in Flanders, and her
+three sons were still in the field. Wilson, who had been Jack's father's
+color sergeant in South Africa, was the valet.
+
+The butler was a one-armed man of forty-five years who had served as a
+company sergeant major in the early days of the war; in rallying half a
+dozen survivors of his company he had got his arm in the way of a chunk
+of high-explosive shell and had decorated his chest with the
+Distinguished Conduct Medal. He had only the vaguest notions what his
+duties as butler required of him but occupied his time in arguing the
+delicate question of seniority with Wilson and the coachman and making
+frequent reports to the captain.
+
+The coachman, who had served forty years in the navy, most of the time
+as chief petty officer, claimed seniority of the butler and Wilson on
+the grounds of belonging to the senior service. But the ex-sergeants
+argued that the captain's house was as much a bit of the army as brigade
+headquarters in France, and that the polite thing for any sailorman to
+do who found a home there was to forget all about seniority; and that
+for their part they did not believe the British navy was older than the
+British army.
+
+Captain Starkley-Davenport introduced into this household his cousins
+from Beaver Dam, without apologies and with only a few words of
+explanation. In spite of the butler's protests, the valet and the
+coachman intruded themselves on the luncheon party, pretending to wait
+on table, but in reality satisfying their curiosity concerning the
+military gentlemen from Canada whose name was the front half of the
+captain's name. They paused frequently in their light duties round the
+table and frankly gave ear to the conversation. Their glances went from
+face to face with childish eagerness, intent on each speaker in turn.
+The captain did not mind, for he was accustomed to their ways and their
+devouring interest in him; Henry was puzzled at first and then amused;
+and Dick was highly flattered.
+
+"There isn't anyone of our blood in our regiment now, and that is what I
+particularly want to talk to you chaps about," said the captain, after a
+little talk on general subjects. "My father and young brother are gone,
+and the chances are that I won't get back. But the interests of the
+regiment are still mine--and I want the family to continue to have a
+stake in it. No use asking you to transfer, Henry, I can see that; you
+are a sapper and already proved in the field, and I know how sappers
+feel about their job; but Dick's an infantryman. What d'you say to
+transfer and promotion, Dick? You can get your commission in one of our
+new battalions as easy as kiss. It will help you and the old regiment."
+
+"But perhaps I shouldn't make a good officer," replied Dick. "I've never
+been in action, you know."
+
+"Don't worry about that. I'll answer for your quality. You wouldn't have
+enlisted if the right stuff wasn't in you."
+
+"But I'd like to prove it, first--although I'd like to be an officer
+mighty well. That's what I intend to be some day. I think I'll stick to
+the 26th a while. That would be fairer--and I'd feel better satisfied,
+if ever I won a commission, to have it in my own outfit. Frank Sacobie
+would feel sore if I left him, before we'd ever been in France together,
+to be an officer in another outfit. But there is Peter. He is a corporal
+already and a mighty good soldier."
+
+He told all about Peter and the queer way he was wounded back in Canada
+and then all about his friend, Frank Sacobie. The captain and the three
+attendants listened with interest. The captain asked many questions; and
+the butler, the valet and the coachman were on the point of doing the
+same many times.
+
+After luncheon Wilson, the elderly valet, took command gently but firmly
+and led the captain off to bed. The brothers left the addresses of
+themselves and Peter with the captain and promised to call at every
+opportunity and to bring Sacobie to see him at the first chance.
+
+Dick and Frank Sacobie continued their training, and in July Dick got
+his first stripe. A few members of the battalion went to the hospital,
+and a few were returned to Canada for one reason or another. In August a
+little draft of men fresh from Canada came to the battalion.
+
+One of the new men kept inquiring so persistently for Corp. Peter
+Starkley that in the course of time he was passed along to Dick, who
+told him about Peter.
+
+"I'm downright sorry to hear that," said the new arrival. "I saw him in
+Mr. Hammond's store one day and took a shine to him, but as you're his
+own brother I guess I'm in the right outfit. Hiram Sill is my name."
+
+They shook hands cordially.
+
+"I'm an American citizen and not so young as I used to be," continued
+Sill, "but the minute this war started I knew I'd be into it before
+long. Soldiering is a business now, and I am a business man. So it
+looked to me as if I were needed--as if the energy I was expending in
+selling boots and shoes for Maddock & Co. would count some if turned
+against the Kaiser. So I swore an oath to fight King George's enemies,
+and I guess I've made no mistake in that. King George and Hiram Sill see
+eye to eye and tooth to tooth in this war like two coons at a
+watermelon."
+
+In spite of the fact that Mr. Scammell's platoon was already up to
+strength, Sill worked his way into it.
+
+He had a very good reason for wanting to be in that particular platoon,
+and there were men already in it who had no particular reason for
+remaining in it instead of going to some other platoon; so--as Sill very
+justly remarked to Dick, to Sacobie, to Sergt. Hammer, to Lieut.
+Scammell and to Capt. Long--he did not see why he could not be where he
+wanted to be. Friendship for Frank Sacobie and Dick Starkley and
+admiration for Sergt. Hammer and Lieut. Scammell were the reasons he
+gave for wanting to be in that platoon.
+
+"He seems a friendly chap," said the adjutant to Mr. Scammell. "Will you
+take him? If so, you can let the Smith with the red head go over to
+Number Three, where he will be with a whole grist of lads from his own
+part of the country. What d'ye say? He looks smart and willing to me."
+
+"Sure I'll take him," said Mr. Scammell. "He says he admires me."
+
+So Hiram Sill became a member of Number Two Platoon. He worked with the
+energy of a tiger and with the good nature of a lamb. He talked a great
+deal, but always with a view to acquiring or imparting knowledge. When
+he found that his military duties and the cultivation of friendships did
+not use up all his time and energy, he set himself to the task of
+ascertaining how many Americans were enrolled in the First and Second
+Canadian divisions. Then indeed he became a busy man; and still his cry
+continued to be that soldiering was a business.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+PRIVATE SILL ACTS
+
+
+ON the night of September 15, 1915, the brigade of which the 26th
+Battalion was a unit crossed from Folkstone to Boulogne without
+accident. All the ranks were in the highest spirits, fondly imagining
+that the dull routine of training was dead forever and that the practice
+of actual warfare was as entertaining as dangerous.
+
+The brigade moved up by way of the fine old city of Saint Omer and the
+big Flemish town of Hazebrouck. By the fourth day after landing in
+France the whole brigade was established in the forward area of
+operations, along with the other brigades of the new division. On the
+night of the 19th the battalion marched up and went into hutments and
+billets close behind the Kemmel front. That night, from the hill above
+their huts, the men from New Brunswick beheld for the first time that
+fixed, fire-pulsing line beyond which lay the menace of Germany.
+
+The battalion went in under cover of darkness, and by midnight had taken
+over from the former defenders the headquarters of companies, the
+dugouts in the support trenches and the sentry posts in the fire trench.
+There were Dick Starkley and his comrades holding back the Huns from the
+throat of civilization. It was an amazing and inspiring position to be
+in for the first time. In front of them, just beneath and behind the
+soaring and falling star shells and Very lights, crouched the most
+ruthless and powerful armies of the world.
+
+To the right and left, every now and then, machine guns broke forth in
+swift, rapping fire. When the fire was from the positions opposite, the
+bullets snapped in the air like the crackings of a whip. The white stars
+went up and down. Great guns thumped occasionally; now and then a high
+shell whined overhead; now and then the burst of an exploding shell
+sounded before or behind. It was a quiet night; but to the new battalion
+it was full of thrills. The sentries never took their eyes from the
+mysterious region beyond their wire. Every blob of blackness beyond
+their defenses set their pulses racing and sent their hands to their
+weapons.
+
+Dick Starkley and Frank Sacobie stood shoulder to shoulder on the fire
+step for hours, staring with all their eyes and listening with all their
+ears. Hiram Sill sat at their feet and talked about how he felt on this
+very particular occasion. His friends paid no attention to him.
+
+"This is the proudest moment of my life," he said. "We are historic
+figures, boys--and that's a thing I never hoped to be. In my humble way,
+I stand for more than George Washington did. This is a bigger war than
+George ever dreamed of, and I have a bigger and better reason for
+fighting the Huns than Gen. Washington ever had for fighting the fool
+Britishers."
+
+"Did you see that?" asked Dick of Sacobie. "Over in the edge of their
+wire. There! Look quick now! Is it a man?"
+
+"Looks like a man, but it's been there right along and ain't moved yet,"
+said Frank. "Maybe it's a stump."
+
+Just then Lieut. Scammell came along. He got up on the fire step and,
+directed by Dick, trained his glass on the black thing in the edge of
+the enemy's wire. A German star shell gave him light.
+
+"That's a German--a dead one," he said. "I've been told about him. There
+was a bit of a scrap over there three nights ago, and that is one of the
+scrappers."
+
+Hiram forgot about Gen. Washington and mounted the fire step to have a
+look. He borrowed the officer's glass for the purpose.
+
+"Do his friends intend to leave him out there much longer, sir?" he
+asked. "If they do, it's a sure sign of weakness. They're scart."
+
+"They are scart, right enough--but I bet they wouldn't be if they knew
+this bit of trench was being held now by a green battalion," replied Mr.
+Scammell. "They'd be over for identifications if they knew."
+
+"Let them come!" exclaimed Private Sill. "I bet a dollar they wouldn't
+stay to breakfast--except a few who wouldn't want any."
+
+At that moment a rifle cracked to the right of them, evidently from
+their own trench and not more than one hundred yards away. It was
+followed close by a spatter of shots, then the smashing bursts of
+grenades, more musketry and the _rat-tat-tat_ of several machine guns.
+Bullets snapped in the air. Lights trailed up from both lines. Dull
+thumps sounded far away, and then came the whining songs of high-flying
+shells. Flashes of fire astonished the eye, and crashing reports stunned
+the ear.
+
+"They're at us!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "Open fire on the parapet
+opposite, unless you see a better target, and don't leave your posts.
+Keep low. Better use the loopholes."
+
+He left the fire step and ran along the duck boards toward the heart of
+the row.
+
+Dick and Frank Sacobie and Hiram Sill, firing rapidly through the
+loopholes, added what they could to the disturbance. Now and again a
+bullet rang against the steel plate of a loophole. One or another of
+them took frequent observations through a periscope, for at that time
+the Canadian troops were not yet supplied with shrapnel helmets. Dave
+Hammer, breathless with excitement, joined them for a few seconds.
+
+"They tried to jump us,--must have learned we're a green relief,--but
+we've chewed them up for fair!" he gasped. "Must have been near a
+hundred of 'em--but not one got through our wire. Keep yer heads down
+for a while, boys; they're traversing our top with emmagees."
+
+At last the enemy's artillery fire slackened and died. Ours drubbed away
+cheerily for another fifteen minutes, then ceased as quick and clean as
+the snap of a finger. The rifle fire and machine-gun fire dwindled and
+ceased. Even the up-spurting of the white and watchful stars diminished
+by half; but now and again one of them from the hostile lines, curving
+far forward in its downward flight, illuminated a dozen or more
+motionless black shapes in and in front of our rusty wire. Except for
+those motionless figures No Man's Land was again deserted. The big rats
+ran there undisturbed.
+
+Sacobie looked over the parapet; Hiram Sill and Dick sat on the fire
+step at the Malecite's feet. They felt as tired as if they had been
+wrestling with strong men for half an hour. Dave Hammer came along the
+trench and halted before them.
+
+"Those Huns or Fritzes or whatever you call them are crazy," he said.
+"Did you ever hear of such a fool thing as that? They've left a dozen
+dead out in front, besides what they carried home along with their
+wounded--and all they did to us was wound three of our fellows with that
+first bomb they threw, and two more with machine-gun fire."
+
+"Their officers must be boneheads, for sure," said Hiram. "War's a
+business,--and a mighty swift one,--and you can't succeed in business
+without knowing something about psychology. Yes, gentlemen, psychology,
+queer as it may sound."
+
+"Sounds mighty queer to me!" muttered Sacobie, glancing down.
+
+"You must study men," continued Private Sill, not at all abashed, "their
+souls and hearts and minds--if you want to make a success at anything
+except bee farming. Now, take this fool raid of the Huns. They were
+smart enough to find out that a bunch of greenhorns took over this
+trench to-night. So they thought they'd surprise us. Now, if they'd
+known anything about psychology, they'd have known that just because we
+were new and green we'd all be on our toes to-night, with our eyes
+sticking out a yard and our ears buttoned right back. Sure! Every man of
+us was on sentry duty to-night!"
+
+"I guess you've got the right idea, Old Psychology," said the sergeant.
+
+The 26th spent five days in the line on that tour. With the exception of
+one day and night of rain they had fine weather. They mended their wire
+and did a fair amount of business in No Man's Land. The enemy attempted
+no further raids; his last effort had evidently given him more
+information concerning the quality of the new battalion than he could
+digest in a week. At any rate he kept very quiet.
+
+At the end of the tour the battalion went back a little way to huts on
+the bushy flanks of Scherpenberg, where they "rested" by performing
+squad, platoon and company drill and innumerable fatigues. The time
+remaining at their disposal was devoted to football and base-ball and
+investigations of villages and farmsteads in the neighborhood.
+
+Their second tour in was more lively and less comfortable than the
+first. Under the drench of rain and the gnawing of dank and chilly mists
+their trenches and all the surrounding landscape were changed from dry
+earth to mud. Everything in the front line, including their persons,
+became caked with mud. The duck boards became a chain of slippery traps;
+and in low trenches they floated like rafts. The parapets slid in and
+required constant attention; and what the water left undone in the way
+of destruction the guns across the way tried to finish.
+
+It was hard on the spirit of new troops; they were toughened to severe
+work and rough living, but not to the deadening mud of a front-line
+trench in low ground. So their officers planned excitement for them, to
+keep the fire of interest alive in their hearts. That excitement was
+obtained in several ways, but always by a move of some sort against the
+enemy or his defenses. Patrol work was the most popular form of relief
+from muddy inaction. Lieut. Scammell quickly developed a skill in that
+and an appetite for it that soon drew the colonel's attention to himself
+and his followers.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+By the end of September, even the medical officers of New Brunswick had
+to admit that Corp. Peter Starkley was fully recovered from his wound.
+As for Peter himself, he affirmed that he had not felt anything of it
+for the past two months. He had worked at the haying and the harvesting
+on Beaver Dam and his own place without so much as a twinge of pain.
+
+Peter returned to his military duties eagerly, but inspired only by his
+sense of duty. His heart was more than ever in his own countryside; but
+despite his natural modesty he knew that he was useful to his king and
+country as a noncommissioned officer, and with that knowledge he
+fortified his heart. He tried to tell Vivia Hammond something of what he
+felt. His words were stumbling and inadequate, but she understood him.
+And at the last he said:
+
+"Vivia, don't forget me, for I shall be thinking of you always--more
+than of anyone or anything in the world." And then, not trusting his
+voice for more, he kissed her hastily.
+
+Vivia wept and made no attempt to hide her tears or the reason for them.
+
+Shortly before Peter's return to the army he had received a letter from
+Capt. Starkley-Davenport, telling of the reunion of the cousins in
+London and virtually offering him a commission in the writer's old
+regiment. Peter had also heard something of the plan from Dick a few
+days before. He answered the captain's letter promptly and frankly, to
+the effect that he had no military ambition beyond that of doing his
+duty to the full extent of his power against Germany, and that a
+commission in an English regiment was an honor he could accept only if
+it should come to him unavoidably, in the day's work.
+
+Peter reached England in the third week of October and with three
+hundred companions fresh from Canada was attached to a reserve battalion
+on St. Martin's Plain for duty and instruction. Peter was given the
+acting rank of sergeant. Early in December he crossed to France and
+reached his battalion without accident. He found that the 26th had
+experienced its full share of the fortunes and misfortunes of war.
+Scores of familiar faces were gone. His old platoon had suffered many
+changes since he had left it in St. John a year ago. Its commander, a
+Lieut. Smith, was an entire stranger to him, and he had known the
+platoon sergeant as a private. Mr. Scammell was now scout officer and
+expecting his third star at any moment. Dave Hammer, still a sergeant,
+and Dick, Sacobie and Hiram Sill also were scouts. Dick, was a corporal
+now and had never been touched by shot, shell or sickness. Sacobie had
+been slightly wounded and had been away at a field ambulance for a week.
+
+Peter rejoined his old platoon and, as it was largely composed at this
+time of new troops, was permitted to retain his acting rank of sergeant.
+He performed his duties so satisfactorily that he was confirmed in his
+rank after his first tour in the trenches.
+
+On the third night of Peter's second tour in the front line, Dave
+Hammer, Dick and Frank Sacobie took him out to show him about. All
+carried bombs, and Sergt. Hammer had a pistol as well. They were hoping
+to surprise a party of Germans at work mending their wire.
+
+Hammer slipped over the parapet. Peter followed him. Dick and Sacobie
+went over together, quick as the wink of an eye. Their faces and hands
+were black. With Dave Hammer in the lead, Peter at the very soles of his
+spiked boots and Dick and Sacobie elbow to elbow behind Peter, they
+crawled out through their own wire by the way of an intricate channel.
+When a star shell went up in front, near enough to light that particular
+area, they lay motionless. They went forward during the brief periods of
+darkness and half light.
+
+At last they got near enough to the German wire to see it plainly, and
+the leader changed his course to the left. When they lay perfectly still
+they could hear many faint, vague sounds in every direction: far, dull
+thuds before and behind them, spatters of rifle fire far off to the
+right and left, the bang of a Very pistol somewhere behind a parapet and
+now and then the crash of a bursting shell.
+
+A few minutes later Dave twisted about and laid a hand on Peter's
+shoulder. He gave it a gentle pull. Peter crawled up abreast of him.
+Dave put his lips to Peter's ear and whispered:
+
+"There they are."
+
+A twisty movement of his right foot had already signaled the same
+information to the veterans in the rear. Peter stared at the blotches of
+darkness that Dave had indicated. They did not move often or quickly and
+kept close to the ground. Sometimes, when a light was up, they became
+motionless and instantly melted from view, merging into the shadows of
+the night and the tangled wire. Now and then Peter heard some faint
+sound of their labor, as they worked at the wire.
+
+"Only five of them," whispered the scout sergeant. "They are scared
+blue. Bet their skunks of officers had to kick them out of the trench.
+Let's sheer off a few yards and give 'em something to be scared about."
+
+Just then Dick and Frank squirmed up beside them.
+
+"Some more straight ahead of us," breathed the Indian. "Three or four."
+
+Hammer used his glass and saw that Sacobie's eyes had not fooled him. He
+touched each of his companions to assure himself of their attention,
+then twisted sharp to the left, back toward their own line, and crawled
+away. They followed. After he had covered about ten yards, Dave turned
+end for end in his muddy trail, and the others came up to him and turned
+beside him. They saw that the wiring party and the patrol had joined.
+
+"Spread a bit," whispered Dave. "I'll chuck one at 'em, and when it
+busts you fellows let fly and then beat it back for the hole in our
+wire. Take cover if the emmagees get busy. I'll be right behind you."
+
+They moved a few paces to the right and left. Peter's lips felt dry, and
+he wanted to sneeze. He took a plump, cold, heavy little grenade in his
+muddy right hand. A few breathless, slow seconds passed and then
+_smash!_ went Dave's bomb over against the Hun wire. Then Peter stood up
+and threw--and three bombs exploded like one.
+
+Turning, Peter slithered along on all fours after Dick and Sacobie. The
+startled Huns lighted up their front as if for a national fete; but
+Peter chanced it and kept on going. A shrapnel shell exploded overhead
+with a terrific sound, and the fat bullets spattered in the mud all
+round him. He came to another and larger crater and was about to skirt
+it when a familiar voice exclaimed:
+
+"Come in here, you idiot!"
+
+There was Dick and Frank Sacobie standing hip-deep in the mud and water
+at the bottom of the hole. Peter joined them with a few bushels of mud.
+A whiz-bang whizzed and banged red near-by, and the three ducked and
+knocked their heads together. The water was bitterly cold.
+
+"Did you think you were on your way to the barns to milk?" asked Dick.
+"Don't you know the machine guns are combing the ground?"
+
+"I'll remember," said Peter. "New work to me, and I guess I was a bit
+flustered. I wonder where Dave Hammer has got himself to."
+
+"Some hole or other, sure," said Sacobie. "Don't worry 'bout Dave. He
+put three bombs into them. I counted the busts. Fritz will quiet down in
+a few minutes, I guess, and let us out of here--if our fellows don't get
+gay and start all the artillery shootin' off."
+
+Our fellows did not get gay, our artillery refrained from shooting off,
+and soon the enemy ceased his frenzied musketry and machine gunning and
+bombing of his own wire and the harmless mud beyond. So Peter and Dick
+and Sacobie left their wet retreat and crawled for home. They found
+Sergt. Hammer waiting for them at the hole in the wire. He had already
+given the word to the sentry; and so they made the passage of the wire
+and popped into the trench. Hammer reported to Mr. Scammell, who was all
+ready to go out with another patrol; and then the four went back to
+their dugout in the support trench, devoured a mess of potatoes and
+onions, drank a few mugs of tea and retired to their blankets, mud and
+putties and all.
+
+That was the night of the 3d of December. In the battalion's summary of
+intelligence to the brigade it read like this:
+
+"Night of 23d-24th, our patrols active. Small patrol of four, under
+106254 Sgt. D. Hammer, encountered ten of the enemy in front of the
+German wire. Bombs were exchanged and six of the enemy were killed or
+wounded. Our patrol returned. 2.30 A. M. Lieut. Scammell placed tube in
+hostile wire which exploded successfully. No casualties."
+
+The next day passed quietly, with a pale glimmer of sunshine now and
+then, and between glimmers a flurry of moist snow. The Germans shouted
+friendly messages across No Man's Land and suggested a complete
+cessation of hostilities for the day and the morrow. The Canadians
+replied that the next Fritz who cut any "love-your-enemy" capers on the
+parapet would get what he deserved.
+
+"Peace on earth!" exclaimed the colonel of the 26th. "They are the
+people to ask for it, the murderers! No, this is a war with a
+reason--and we shoot on Christmas Eve just as quick as on any other
+day."
+
+The day passed quietly. Soon after sunset Mr. Scammell sent two of his
+scouts out to watch the gap in the German wire that he had blown with
+his explosive tube. They returned at ten o'clock and reported that the
+enemy had made no attempt to mend the gap. The night was misty and the
+enemy's illumination a little above normal.
+
+At eleven o'clock Lieut. Scammell went out himself, accompanied by
+Lieut. Harvey and nine men. They reached the gap in the enemy wire
+without being discovered, and there they separated. Mr. Harvey and two
+others moved along the front of the wire to the left, and a sergeant and
+one man went to the right. Mr. Scammell and his five men passed through
+the wire and extended a few yards to the left, close under the hostile
+parapet.
+
+The officer stood up, close against the wet sandbags. Dave Hammer, Dick,
+Peter, Hiram Sill and Sacobie followed his example.
+
+Then, all together, they tossed six bombs into the trench. The
+shattering bangs of six more blended with the bangs of the first volley.
+From right and left along the trench sounded other explosions.
+
+Obeying their officer's instructions, Scammell's men made the return
+journey through the wire and struck out for home at top speed, trusting
+to the mist to hide their movements from the foe.
+
+Scammell rid himself of three more bombs and then followed his party.
+The white mist swallowed them. The bombers ran, stumbled and ran again,
+eager to reach the shelter of their own parapet before the shaken enemy
+should recover and begin sweeping the ground with his machine guns.
+
+Sacobie and Dick were the first to get into the trench. Then came Sergt.
+Hammer and Lieut. Scammell, followed close by Lieut. Harvey and his
+party. By that time the German machine guns were going full blast.
+
+"Are Sergt. Starkley and Private Sill here?"
+
+"Don't see either of 'em, sir," Sergt. Hammer said in reply to Mr.
+Scammell's question.
+
+"Perhaps they got here before any of us and beat it for their dugout,"
+said Mr. Scammell. "Dick, you go along the trench and have a look for
+them. If they aren't in, come back and report to me. Wait right here for
+me, mind you--on _this_ side of the parapet. Get that?"
+
+Then the officer spoke a few hurried words to Sergt. Hammer, a few to
+the sentry, and went over the sandbags like a snake. Hammer went out of
+the trench at the same moment; and Frank Sacobie took one glance at the
+sentry and followed Hammer like a shadow. The mist lay close and cold
+and almost as wet as rain over that puddled waste.
+
+Mr. Scammell found Peter and Hiram about ten yards in front of the gap
+in our wire; the private was unhurt and the sergeant unconscious. Sill
+had his tall friend on his back and was crawling laboriously homeward.
+
+"Whiz-bang," he informed Mr. Scammell. "It got Pete bad, in the leg. I
+heard him grunt and soon found him."
+
+They regained the trench, picking up Hammer on the way, and sent Peter
+out on a stretcher. Sacobie came in at their heels; and no one knew that
+he had gone out to the rescue.
+
+That happened on Christmas morning. Before night the doctors cut off
+what little had been left below the knee of Peter's right leg.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V
+
+                     PETER'S ROOM IS AGAIN OCCUPIED
+
+
+LIFE was very dull round Beaver Dam after Peter had gone away. John and
+Constance Starkley and Flora and Emma felt that every room of the old
+house was so full of memories of the three boys that they could not
+think of anything else. John Starkley worked early and late, but a sense
+of numbness was always at his heart. There were times when he glowed
+with pride and even when he flamed with anger, but he was always
+conscious of the weight on his heart. His grief was partly for his
+wife's grief.
+
+He awoke suddenly very early one morning and heard his wife sobbing
+quietly. That had happened several times before, and sometimes she had
+been asleep and at other times awake. Now she was asleep, lonely for her
+boys even in her dreams. He thought of waking her; and then he reflected
+that, if awake, she would hide her tears, which now perhaps were giving
+her some comfort in her dreams.
+
+But he could not find his own sleep again. He lighted a candle, put on a
+few clothes and went downstairs to the sitting room. There were books
+everywhere, of all sorts, in that comfortable and shabby room. The brown
+wooden clock on the shelf above the old Franklin stove ticked drearily.
+It marked ten minutes past two. Mr. Starkley dipped into a volume of
+Charles Lever and wondered why he had ever laughed at its impossible
+anecdotes and pasteboard love scenes. He tried a report of the New
+Brunswick Agricultural Society and found that equally dry. A flyleaf of
+Treasure Island held his attention, for on it was penned in a round
+hand, "Flora with Dick's love, Christmas, 1914."
+
+"He was only a boy then," murmured the father. "Less than a year ago he
+was only a boy, and now he is a man, knowing hate and horror and
+fatigue--a man fighting for his life. They are all boys! Henry and
+Peter--Peter with his grand farm and fast mares, and his eyes like
+Connie's."
+
+John Starkley got out of his chair, trembling as if with cold. He walked
+round the room, clasping his hands before him. Then he took the candle
+from the table and held it up to the shelf above the stove. There stood
+photographs of his boys, in uniform. He held the little flame close to
+each photograph in turn.
+
+"Three sons," he said. "Three good sons--and not one here now!"
+
+A cautious rat-tat on the glass of one of the windows brought him out of
+his reveries with a start. He went to the window without a moment's
+hesitation, held the candle high and saw a face looking in at him that
+he did not recognize for a moment. It was a frightened and shamed face.
+The eyes met his for a fraction of a second and then shifted their
+glance.
+
+"James Hammond!" exclaimed Mr. Starkley. "Of all people!"
+
+He set the candle on the table and pushed up the lower sash of the
+window, letting in a gust of cold wind that extinguished the light
+behind him. He could see the bulk of his untimely visitor against the
+vague starlight.
+
+"Come in, James," he said. "By the window or the door, as you like."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Starkley," said Hammond in guarded tones. "The window
+will do. No strangers about, I suppose? Just the family?"
+
+"Only my wife and daughters," replied the farmer, and turned to relight
+the candle.
+
+Jim Hammond got quickly across the sill, pulled the sash down, and after
+it the green-linen shade. He stood near the wall, twirling his hat in
+his hand and shuffling his feet. When Mr. Starkley turned to him, he
+swallowed hard, glanced up and then as swiftly down again.
+
+"Queer time to make a call," said Hammond at last. "Near three o'clock,
+Mr. Starkley. I was glad to see your light at the window. I was scared
+to tap on the window, at first, for fear you'd send me away."
+
+"Send you away?" queried the farmer. "Why did you fear that, Jim? You,
+or any other friend, are welcome at this house at any hour of the day or
+night. But I must admit that your visit has taken me by surprise. I
+thought you were far away from this peaceful and lonely country, my
+boy--far away in Flanders."
+
+The blood flushed over Jim's face, and he stared at the farmer.
+
+"You thought I was in Flanders," he said. "In Flanders--me! So you don't
+know about me, Mr. Starkley? Peter didn't tell you about me?
+That--that's impossible. Don't you know--and every one else?"
+
+"I don't know what you are talking about," replied Mr. Starkley, as he
+pushed Jim into an armchair. "I can see that you are tired, however, and
+in distress of some sort. Why are you here, Jim--and why are you not in
+uniform? Tell me--and if I can help you in any way you may be sure that
+I will. Rest here and I'll get you something to eat. I did not notice at
+first how bad you look, Jim."
+
+"Never mind the food!" muttered young Hammond. "I'm not hungry, sir--not
+to matter, that is. But I'm dog-tired. I've been hiding about in the
+woods and in people's barns for a long time--and walking miles and
+miles. I--you say you don't know--I am a deserter--and worse."
+
+"You didn't go to France with your regiment? You deserted?"
+
+"I didn't go anywhere with it. Why didn't Peter tell you? I came home on
+pass--and gave them the slip. I--Peter was sent here to fetch me back.
+And he didn't tell you! And you thought I was in France! I came here
+because I was ashamed to go home."
+
+He suddenly leaned forward in his chair, with his elbows on his knees,
+and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook. John Starkley
+continued to gaze at him in silence for a minute or two, far too amazed
+and upset and bewildered to know what to say or do. He felt a great pity
+for the young man, whom he had always known as a prosperous and
+self-confident person. To see him thus--shabby, weary, ashamed and
+reduced to tears--was a most pitiful thing. A deserter! A coward! But
+even so, who was he to judge? Might not his sons have been like this,
+except for the mercy of God? Even now any one of his boys, or all three
+of them, might be in great need of help and kindness. He went over and
+laid a hand gently on his visitor's shoulder.
+
+"I don't know what you have done, exactly, or anything at all of your
+reason for doing it, but you are the son of a friend of mine and have
+been a comrade of one of my sons," he said. "Look upon me as a friend,
+Jim. You say you are a deserter. Well, I heard you. It is bad--but here
+is my hand."
+
+Jim Hammond raised his head and looked at Mr. Starkley with a
+tear-stained face.
+
+"Do you mean that?" he asked; and at the other's nod he grasped the
+extended hand.
+
+Mr. Starkley asked him no more questions then, but brought cold ham from
+the pantry and cider from the cellar and ate and drank with him. The
+visitor's way with the food and drink told its own story and sharpened
+the farmer's pity. They went upstairs on tiptoe.
+
+"This is Peter's room," said Mr. Starkley. "Sleep sound and as long as
+you please--till dinner time, if you like. And don't worry, Jim."
+
+The farmer returned to his own room and found his wife sleeping quietly.
+He wakened her and told her of young Hammond's visit and all that he
+knew of his story.
+
+"I am glad you took him in," she said. "We must help him for our boys'
+sakes, even if he is a deserter."
+
+"Yes," answered Mr. Starkley, "we must help him through his shame and
+trouble--and then he may right the other matter of his own free will.
+We'll give him a chance, anyway."
+
+It was dinner time when Jim Hammond awoke from his sleep of physical and
+nervous exhaustion. He was puzzled to know where he was at first, but
+the memory of the night's adventure came to him, bringing both shame and
+relief. He had no watch to tell him the time, and there was no clock in
+the room. He had brought nothing with him--not a watch, or a dollar, or
+a shirt--nothing except his guilt and his shame. He flinched at the
+thought of meeting Mrs. Starkley and the girls.
+
+A knock sounded on the door, and John Starkley looked in and wished him
+good morning. "If you get up now, Jim, you'll be in time for dinner," he
+said. "Here is hot water and a shaving kit--and a few duds of Henry's
+and Peter's you can use if you care to. Set your mind at rest about the
+family, Jim. I have told my wife all that I know myself, and she feels
+as I do. As for the girls--well, I will let them know as much as is
+necessary. We mean to help you to get on your feet again, Jim."
+
+The deserter shaved with care, dressed in his own seedy garments and
+went slowly downstairs. He entered the kitchen. Mrs. Starkley and Flora
+were there, busy about the midday dinner. They looked up at him and
+smiled as he appeared in the doorway, but their eyes and Flora's quick
+change of color told him of the quality of their pity. They would feel
+the same, he knew, for any broken and drunken tramp in the ditch. But he
+was a more despicable thing than a drunken tramp. He was a deserter, a
+coward. They knew that of him, for he saw it in their eyes that tried to
+be so frank and kind; and that was not the worst of him. He could not
+advance from the threshold or meet their glances again.
+
+Mrs. Starkley went to the young man quickly and, taking his hand in
+hers, drew him into the room. Flora came forward and gave him her hand
+and said she was glad to see him; and then Emma came in from the dining
+room and said, "Hello, Mr. Hammond! I hope you can stay here a long
+time; we are very lonely."
+
+His heart was so shaken by those words that his tongue was suddenly
+loosened. He looked desperately, imploringly round, and his face went
+red as fire and then white as paper.
+
+"I'll stay--if you'll let me--until I pick up my nerve again," he said
+quickly and unsteadily. "Keep me hidden here from Stanley and my folks.
+I'll work like a nigger. I am a deserter, as you all know--and I know
+that Peter didn't tell you so. I'd do anything for him, after that. I'm
+a runaway soldier, but it wasn't because I was afraid to fight. I'll
+show you as soon as I'm fit--I'll go and fight. It was my beastly temper
+and drink that did for me. I've been near crazy since. But I'll show you
+my gratitude some day--if you give me a chance now to work round to
+feeling something like a man again."
+
+Flora and Emma were tongue-tied by the stress of their emotions. They
+could only gaze at their guest with tear-dimmed eyes. But Mrs. Starkley
+went close to him and put a hand on each of his drooped shoulders.
+
+"Of course, my dear boy," she said. "You are only a boy, Jim, a year or
+two younger than Henry, I think. Trust us to help you."
+
+During dinner they talked about the country, the war, the weather and
+the stock--about almost everything but Jim Hammond's affairs.
+
+"What do you want me to do this afternoon?" asked Jim when the meal was
+over. "I don't know much about farm work, but I can use an axe and can
+handle horses."
+
+"I was ploughing this morning; and this may be our last day before the
+frost sets in hard," said Mr. Starkley. "What about hitching Peter's
+mares to a second plow?"
+
+"Suit me fine," said Jim.
+
+It was a still, bright October afternoon, with a glow in the sunshine, a
+smell of fern and leaf in the air and a veil of blue mist on the farther
+hills. Frosts had nipped the surface of things lightly a score of times
+but had not yet struck deep. Jim Hammond, in a pair of Peter's
+long-legged boots, guided a long plough behind Peter's black and sorrel
+mares. The mares pulled steadily, and the bright plough cut smoothly
+through the sod of the old meadow. Over against the fir woods on the far
+side of the meadow John Starkley went back and forth behind his grays.
+
+Jim rested frequently at the end of a furrow, for he was not in the pink
+of condition. He noticed, for the first time in his life, the faint
+perfume of the turned loam and torn grass roots. He liked it. His
+furrows, a little uneven at first, became straighter and more even until
+they were soon almost perfect.
+
+As the red sun was sinking toward the western forests, Emma appeared,
+climbing over the rail fence from a grove of young red maples. She
+carried something under one arm. She waved a hand to her father but came
+straight to Jim. He stopped the mares midway the furrow.
+
+"I made these gingernuts myself," said Emma, holding out an uncovered
+tin box to him. "See, they are still hot. Have some."
+
+He accepted two and found them very good. The girl looked over his work
+admiringly and told him she had never seen straighter furrows except a
+few of Peter's ploughing. Then she warned him that in half an hour she
+would blow a horn for him to stop and went across to her father with
+what was left of the gingernuts. Hammond went on unwinding the old sod
+into straight furrows until the horn blew from the house.
+
+After supper he played cribbage with Mr. Starkley; and that night he
+slept soundly and without dreaming. He awoke early enough to do his
+share of the feeding and milking before breakfast. The ploughs worked
+again that day, but the next night brought a frost that held tight.
+
+The days went by peacefully for Jim Hammond. He never went on the
+highway or away from Beaver Dam and Peter's place. Sometimes, when
+people came to the house, he sat by himself in his room upstairs. He did
+his share of all the barn work, twice a week helped Mrs. Starkley and
+the girls with the churning and cut cordwood and fence rails every day.
+He never talked much, but at times his manner was almost cheerful. And
+so the days passed and October ran into November. Snow came and letters
+from France and England. The family treated him like one of themselves,
+with never a question to embarrass him or a word to hurt him. He heard
+news of his family occasionally, but never tried to see them.
+
+"They think I am somewhere in the States, hiding--or that's what father
+thinks," he said to Flora. "Some day I'll write to mother--from France."
+
+December came and Christmas. Jim kept house that day while the others
+drove to Stanley and attended the Christmas service in the church on the
+top of the long hill. A week later a man in a coonskin coat drove up to
+the kitchen door. Jim recognized him through the window as the
+postmaster of Stanley and retired up the back stairs. John Starkley, who
+had just come in from the barns, opened the door.
+
+"A cablegram for you, Mr. Starkley," said the postmaster. "It was wired
+through from Fredericton."
+
+He held out the thin envelope. Mr. Starkley stared at it, but did not
+move. His eyes narrowed, and his face looked suddenly old.
+
+"No call to be afraid of it," said the postmaster, who was also the
+telegraph operator. "I received it and know what's in it."
+
+Mr. Starkley took it then and tore it open.
+
+"Peter wounded. Doing fine. Dick Starkley" is what he read. He sighed
+with relief and called to Mrs. Starkley and the girls. Then he invited
+the man from Stanley in to dinner, saying he would see to the horse in a
+minute.
+
+"You can't expect much better news than that from men in France," John
+Starkley said to his wife. "Wounded and doing fine--why, that's better
+than no news, by a long shot. He will be safe out of the line now for
+weeks, perhaps for months. Perhaps he will even get to England. He is
+safe at this very minute, anyway."
+
+He excused himself, went upstairs and told Jim Hammond the news.
+
+"That is twice for Peter already," he said, "once right at home and once
+in Flanders. If this one isn't any worse than the first, we have nothing
+to worry about."
+
+"I hope it is just bad enough to give him a good long rest," said Jim in
+a low voice.
+
+The postmaster stayed to dinner, and Emma smuggled roast beef and
+pudding up to Jim in his bedroom. No sooner had that visitor gone than
+another drove up. This other was Vivia Hammond; and once more Jim
+retired to his room. Vivia had heard of the cablegram, but nothing of
+its import. Her face was white with anxiety.
+
+"What is it?" she cried. "The cable--what is it about?"
+
+"Peter is right as rain--wounded but doing fine," said John.
+
+Vivia cried and then laughed.
+
+"I love Peter, and I don't care who knows it!" she exclaimed. "I hope he
+has lost a leg, so they'll have to send him home. That sounds
+dreadful--but I love him so--and what does a leg matter?" She turned to
+Mrs. Starkley. "Did he ever tell you he loved me?" she asked.
+
+"He didn't have to tell us," answered Mrs. Starkley, smiling.
+
+"He does! He does!" exclaimed the girl, and then began to cry again; and
+Jim, imprisoned upstairs, wished she would go home.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER VI
+
+                    DAVE HAMMER GETS HIS COMMISSION
+
+
+BY the middle of January, 1916, Peter was in London again, now minus one
+leg but otherwise in the pink of condition. Davenport, with his crutch
+and stick and shadowing valet, visited him daily in hospital. He and
+Peter wrote letters to Beaver Dam--and Peter wrote a dozen to Stanley.
+
+Capt. Starkley-Davenport had power. Warbroken and propped between his
+crutch and stick, still he was powerful. A spirit big enough to animate
+three strong men glowed in his weak body, and he went after the medical
+officers, nursing sisters and V. A. D.'s of that hospital like a
+lieutenant general looking for trouble. He saw that Peter received every
+attention, and then that every other man in the hospital received the
+same--and yet he was as polite as your maiden aunt. Several medical
+officers, including a colonel, jumped on him--figuratively
+speaking--only to jump back again as if they had landed on spikes.
+
+As soon as he regarded Peter as fit to be moved he took him to his own
+house. There the queer servants waited on Peter day and night in order
+of seniority. They addressed him as "Sergt. Peter, sir."
+
+Over in Flanders things had bumped and smashed along much as usual since
+Christmas morning. Mr. Scammell had read his promotion in orders and the
+London Gazette, had put up his third star and had gone to brigade as
+staff captain, Intelligence; and David Hammer, with the acting rank of
+sergeant major, carried on in command of the battalion scouts. Hiram
+Sill had been awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for his work on
+Christmas morning and the two chevrons of a corporal for his work in
+general. A proud man was Corp. Sill, with that ribbon on his chest.
+
+The changes and chances of war had also touched Dick Starkley and Frank
+Sacobie. Lieut. Smith had persuaded Dick to leave the scouts and become
+his platoon sergeant; Sacobie was made an acting sergeant--and the night
+of that very day, while he was displaying his new chevrons in No Man's
+Land, he received a wound in the neck that put him out of the line for
+two weeks.
+
+Henry Starkley--a captain now--managed to visit the battalion about
+twice a month. It was in the fire trench that he found Dick one mild and
+sunny morning of the last week of February. The brothers grinned
+affectionately and shook hands.
+
+"Peter has sailed for home, wooden leg and all," said Henry. "I got a
+letter yesterday from Jack Davenport. Except for the sneaking Hun
+submarines, Peter is fairly safe now."
+
+"I hope he makes the farm," said Dick. "He was homesick for it every
+minute and working out crop rotations on the backs of letters every
+night, in the line and out--except when he was fighting."
+
+"There was something about you in Jack's letter. He says that offer
+still stands, and he seems as anxious as ever about it."
+
+Dick sat down on the fire step, thrust out his muddy feet on the duck
+boards and gazed at them. He scratched himself meditatively in several
+places.
+
+"I'd like fine to be an officer," he said at last. "Almost any one
+would. But I don't want to leave this bunch just now. Jack's crowd will
+want officers in six months just as much as now--maybe more; and if I'm
+lucky--still in fighting shape six months from now--I'll be better able
+to handle the job."
+
+"I'll write that to Jack," said Henry. "He will understand--and your
+platoon commander will be pleased. He and the adjutant talked to me
+to-day as if something were coming to you--a D. C. M., I think. What
+happened to your first adjutant, Capt. Long, by the way?"
+
+"Long's gone west," replied Dick briefly.
+
+"I'm sorry to hear that. Shell get him?"
+
+"No, sniper. He took one chance too many."
+
+"I heard at the brigade on my way in that your friend, Dave Hammer, has
+his commission. I wonder if they have told him yet."
+
+"Good! Let's go along and tell him. He is sleeping to-day."
+
+They found Dave in his little dugout, with the mud of last night's
+expedition still caked on his person from heel to head. His blankets
+were cast aside, and he lay flat on his back and snored. His snores had
+evidently driven the proprietors of the other bunks out of that confined
+place, for he was alone. His muddy hands clasped and unclasped. He
+ceased his snoring suddenly and gabbled something very quickly and
+thickly in which only the word "wire" was recognizable. Then he jerked
+up one leg almost to his chin and shot it straight again with terrific
+force.
+
+"He is fighting in his dreams, just the way my old dog Snap used to,"
+said Dick. "We may as well wake him up, for he isn't resting."
+
+"Go to it--and welcome," said Henry. "It's an infantry job."
+
+Dick stooped and cried, "Hello, Dave!" but the sleeper only twitched an
+arm. "Wake up!" roared Dick. "Wake up and go to sleep right!" The
+sleeper closed his mouth for a second but did not open his eyes. He
+groaned, muttered something about too much light and began to snore
+again. Dick put a hand on his shoulder--and in the same breath of time
+he was gripped at wrist and throat with fingers like iron. Grasping the
+hand at his throat, Dick pulled a couple of fingers clear. Then the
+sleeper closed his mouth again and opened his eyes wide.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Dick!" he said. "Sorry. Must have been dreaming."
+
+He sat up and shook hands with Henry. When he heard of his promotion he
+blushed and got out of his bunk.
+
+"That's a bit of cheering news," he said "I'll have a wash on the
+strength of that, and something to eat. Wish we were out, and I'd give a
+little party. Wonder if I can raise a set of stars to wear to-night,
+just for luck."
+
+Henry went away half an hour later, and Dick returned to the fire
+trench. Capt. Keen, the adjutant, came looking for Hammer, found him
+still at his toilet and congratulated him heartily on his promotion.
+
+"Come along and feed with me, if you have had enough sleep," said the
+adjutant. "The colonel wants to see you. He had a talk with you
+yesterday, didn't he--about to-night's job?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and it will be a fine job, if the weather is just right.
+Looks now as if it might be too clear, but we'll know by sundown. I was
+dreaming about it a while ago. We were in, and I had a big sentry by the
+neck when Dick Starkley woke me up. I had grabbed Dick."
+
+"The colonel is right," said Capt. Keen. "You're working too hard,
+Hammer, and you're beginning to show it; your eyes look like the
+mischief. This fighting in your sleep is a bad sign."
+
+"The whole army could do with a rest, for that matter," replied Hammer,
+"but who would go on with the work? What I am worrying about now is rank
+badges. I'd like to doll up a bit for to-night."
+
+They went back to the sandbagged cellar under the broken farmhouse that
+served as headquarters for whatever battalion held that part of the
+line. On their way they had borrowed an old jacket with two stars on
+each sleeve from Lieut. Smith; and in that garment Dave Hammer appeared
+at the midday meal. The colonel, the medical officer, the padre and the
+quartermaster were there. They congratulated Dave on his promotion, and
+the colonel placed him at his right hand at the table on an upended
+biscuit box.
+
+The fare consisted of roast beef and boiled potatoes, a serviceable
+apple pie and coffee. The conversation was of a general character until
+after the attack on the pie--an attack that was driven to complete
+success only by the padre, who prided himself on the muscular
+development of his jaws. The commanding officer, somewhat daunted in
+spirit by the pastry, looked closely at the lieutenant.
+
+"You need a rest, Hammer," he said. "Keen, didn't I tell you yesterday
+that Hammer must take a rest? Doc, just slant an eye at this young
+officer and give me your opinion. Doesn't he look like all-get-out?"
+
+"Looks like get-out-of-the-front-line to me, sir," said the medical
+officer. "A couple of weeks back would set him on his feet. You say the
+word, sir, and I'll send him back this very day."
+
+"But the show!" exclaimed Hammer. "I must go out to-night, sir!"
+
+"Hammer is the only officer with his party, sir," said Capt. Keen to the
+colonel. "As you know, sir, we held the organization down this time to
+only one officer with each of our four parties--because officers are not
+very plentiful with us just now."
+
+"That's the trouble!" exclaimed the colonel. "They hem and haw and chew
+the rag over our recommendations for commissions and keep sending us
+green officers from England who don't know the fine points of the game.
+So here we are forced to let Hammer go out to-night, when he should be
+in his blankets. But back he goes to-morrow!"
+
+Dave had intended to sleep that afternoon, but the excitement caused by
+the news of his promotion made it impossible. He who had never missed a
+minute's slumber through fear of death was set fluttering at heart and
+nerves by the two worsted "pips" on each sleeve of his borrowed jacket.
+The coat was borrowed--but the right to wear the stars was his, his very
+own, earned in Flanders. He toured the trenches--fire, communication and
+support--feeling that his stars were as big as pie plates.
+
+Sentries, whose bayonet-tipped rifles leaned against the parapet,
+saluted and then grasped his hand. Subalterns and captains hailed him as
+a brother; and so did sergeants, with a "sir" or two thrown in. As Dave
+passed on his embarrassed but triumphant way down the trench his heart
+pounded as no peril of war had ever set it pounding. No emperor had ever
+known greater ache and uplift of glory than this grand conflagration in
+the heart and brain of Lieut. David Hammer, Canadian Infantry.
+
+He visited his scouts; and they seemed as pleased at his "pips" as if
+each one of them had got leave to London. Even Sergt. Frank Sacobie's
+dark and calm visage showed flickers of emotion. Corp. Hiram Sill, D. C.
+M., who visioned everything in a large and glowing style, saw in his
+mind's eye the King in Buckingham Palace agreeing with some mighty
+general, all red and gold and ribbons, that this heroic and deserving
+young man should certainly be granted a commission for the fine work he
+was doing with the distinguished scouts of that very fine regiment.
+
+"I haven't a doubt that was the way of it," said Old Psychology. "People
+with jobs like that are trained from infancy to grasp details; and I bet
+King George has the name of everyone of us on the tip of his tongue. You
+can bet your hat he isn't one to give away Distinguished Conduct Medals
+without knowing what he is about."
+
+Hiram joined in the laughter that followed his inspiring statements; not
+that he thought he had said anything to laugh at, but merely to be
+sociable.
+
+That "show" was to be a big one--a brigade affair with artillery
+cooperation. The battalion on the right was to send out two parties, one
+to bomb the opposite trench and the other to capture and demolish a
+hostile sap head--and together to raise Old Ned in general and so hold
+as much of the enemy's attention as possible from the main event. The
+battalion on the left was to put on an exhibition of rifle, machine-gun
+and trench-mortar fire that would assuredly keep the garrison opposite
+occupied with its own affairs.
+
+As for the artillery, it had already worked through two thirds of its
+elaborate programme. Four nights ago it had put on a shoot at two points
+in the hostile wire and front line, three hundred yards apart, short but
+hot. Then it had lifted to the support and reserve trenches. Three
+nights ago it had done much the same things, but not at the same hours,
+and on a wider frontage. The enemy, sure of being raided, had turned on
+his lights and his machine guns on both occasions--on nothing. He could
+do nothing then toward repairing his wire, for after our guns had
+churned up his entanglements our machine guns played upon the scene and
+kept him behind his parapet. The batteries had been quiet two nights
+ago, and Fritz, expecting a raid in force, had lost his nerve entirely.
+Our eighteen pounders had lashed him at noon the next day, and again at
+sunset and again at eleven o'clock; and so he had sat up all night again
+with his nerves.
+
+At four o'clock in the afternoon of this day of Dave Hammer's promotion
+the batteries went at it again, smashing wire and parapets with field
+guns and shooting up registered targets farther back with heavier metal.
+When hostile batteries retaliated, we did counter-battery work with such
+energy and skill that we soon had the last word in the argument. The
+deeds of the gunners put the infantry in high spirits.
+
+The afternoon grew misty; shortly after five o'clock there was a shower.
+At half past seven scouts went out from the 26th and the battalion on
+the right and, returning, reported that the wire was nicely ripped and
+chewed. At eight the battalion on the left put on a formidable
+trench-mortar shoot, which quite upset the nerve-torn enemy. Then all
+was at rest on that particular piece of the western front--except for
+the German illumination--until half past twelve.
+
+Half past twelve was Zero Hour. A misty rain was seeping down from a
+slate-gray sky. Six lieutenants in the fire trench of two battalions
+took their eyes from the dials of their wrist watches, said "time" to
+their sergeants and went over, with their men at their heels and elbows.
+The two larger parties from our battalion were to get into the opposite
+trench side by side, there separate one to the left and one to the
+right, do what they could in seven minutes or until recalled, then get
+out and run for home with their casualties--if any. They were to pass
+their prisoners out as they collared them. The smaller parties were made
+up of riflemen, stretcher bearers and escorts for the prisoners. The
+raiding parties were commanded by Mr. Hammer, with Sergt. Sacobie second
+in command, and Mr. Smith, with Sergt. Richard Starkley second in
+command. Corp. Hiram Sill was in Hammer's crowd.
+
+Captain Scammell from brigade, the colonel and the adjutant stood in the
+trench at the point of exit. Suddenly they heard the dry, smashing
+reports of grenades through the chatter of machine-gun fire on the left.
+The bombs went fast and furious, punctuated by the crack of rifles and
+bursts of pistol fire. S. O. S. rockets went up from the German
+positions; and, as if in answer to those signals, our batteries laid a
+heavy barrage on and just in rear of the enemy's support trenches. The
+colonel flashed a light on his wrist.
+
+"They have been in four minutes," he said.
+
+At that moment a muddy figure with blackened face and hands and a slung
+rifle on his back scrambled into the trench, turned and pulled something
+over the parapet that sprawled at the colonel's feet.
+
+"Here's one of them, sir; and there's more coming," said the man of mud.
+"Ah! Here's another. Boost him over, you fellers."
+
+       [Illustration: "'HERE'S ONE OF THEM, SIR; AND THERE'S MORE
+                    COMING,' SAID THE MAN OF MUD."]
+
+Into the trench tumbled another Fritz, and then a third, and then a
+Canadian, and then two more prisoners and the third Canadian.
+
+"Five," said the last of the escort. "Us three started for home with
+eight, but something hit the rest of 'em--T-M bomb, I reckon."
+
+"Sure it was," said the Canadian who had arrived first. "Don't I know? I
+got a chunk of it in my leg." He stooped and fumbled at the calf of his
+right leg. The adjutant turned a light on him, and the man extended his
+hand, dripping with blood.
+
+"You beat it for the M. O., my lad," said the colonel.
+
+Five more prisoners came in under a guard of two; and then six more of
+the raiders arrived, two of whom were carrying Lieut. Smith. The
+lieutenant's head was bandaged roughly, and the dressing was already
+soaked with blood.
+
+"We did them in, sir," he said thickly to the colonel. "Caught them in
+bunches--and bombed three dugouts."
+
+He was carried away, still muttering of the fight. By that time the
+majority of the other parties were in. Several of the men were
+wounded--and they had brought their dead with them, three in number. The
+Germans had turned their trench mortars on their own front line from
+their support trenches.
+
+"They're not all in yet," said Capt. Keen. "Hammer isn't in."
+
+Just then Dick Starkley slid into the trench.
+
+"That you, Dick? Did you see Mr. Hammer? Or Frank Sacobie? Or Bruce
+McDonald?"
+
+"I have McDonald--but some one's got to help me lift him over," said
+Dick breathlessly. "Heavy as a horse--and hit pretty bad!"
+
+Two men immediately slipped over the top and hoisted big McDonald into
+the trench. Hiram Sill put a hand on Dick's shoulder.
+
+"Dave Hammer and Sacobie," he whispered, "are still out. Hadn't we
+better--"
+
+"Right," said Dick. "Come on out." He turned to Capt. Scammell. "Please
+don't let the guns shorten for a minute or two, sir; Sill and I have to
+go out again."
+
+Without waiting for an answer they whipped over the sandbags. Hiram was
+back in two minutes. He turned on the fire step and received something
+that Dick and Frank Sacobie lifted over to him. It was Dave Hammer,
+unconscious and breathing hoarsely, with his eyes shut, his borrowed
+tunic drenched with mud and blood and one of his bestarred sleeves shot
+away. Capt. Scammell swayed against the colonel and, for a second, put
+his hand to his eyes.
+
+"Steady, lad, steady," said the colonel in a queer, cracked voice.
+"Keen, tell the guns to drop on their front line with all they've
+got--and then some."
+
+To the whining and screeching of our shells driving low overhead and the
+tumultuous chorus of their exploding, passed the undismayed soul of
+Lieut. David Hammer of the Canadian Infantry.
+
+Heedless of the coming and going of the shells and the quaking of the
+parapet, Sacobie sat on the fire step with his hands between his knees
+and stared fixedly at nothing; but Hiram Sill and young Dick Starkley
+wept without thought of concealment, and their tears washed white
+furrows down their blackened faces.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII
+
+                         PETER WRITES A LETTER
+
+
+IN March, 1916, Sergt. Peter Starkley got back to his own country,
+bigger in the chest and an inch taller than when he had gone away. He
+walked a little stiffly on his right foot, it is true--but what did that
+matter? His letters to the people at home had, by intention, given them
+only a vague idea of the possible date of his arrival. They knew that he
+was coming, that he was well, and that his new leg was such a
+masterpiece of construction that he had danced on it in London on two
+occasions. Otherwise he was unannounced.
+
+He went to the town of Stanley first and left his baggage in the freight
+shed at the siding. With his haversack on his shoulder and a stout stick
+in his right hand, he set out along the white and slippery road. Before
+he got to the bridge a two-horse sled overtook him, and the driver, an
+elderly man whom he did not know, invited him to climb on. Peter
+accepted the invitation with all the agility at his command.
+
+"You step a mite lame on your right leg," said the driver.
+
+"That's so," replied Peter, smiling.
+
+"Been soldierin', hey? See any fight-in'?"
+
+"Yes, I've been in Flanders."
+
+"That so? I've got a boy in the war. Smart boy, too. They give him a job
+right in England. He wears spurs to his boots, he does; and it ain't
+everyone kin wear them spurs, he writes me. This here war ain't all in
+Flanders. We had some shootin' round here about a year back out Pike's
+Settlement way. A young feller in soldier uniform was drivin' along, and
+some one shot at him from the woods. That's what _he_ said, but my
+boy--that was afore he went to the war--says like enough he shot himself
+so's to git out of goin'. He's a smart lad--that's why they give him a
+job in England. Army Service Corps, he is--so I reckon maybe he's right
+about that feller shootin' himself."
+
+"What's his name?" asked Peter quietly.
+
+"Starkley. Peter Starkley from Beaver Dam."
+
+"I'm asking the name of that smart son of yours."
+
+"Gus Todder's his name--Gus Todder, junior. Maybe you know him," was the
+reply.
+
+"No, but I've got his number," said Peter. "You tell him so in the next
+letter you write him. Tell him that Sergt. Peter Starkley of the 26th
+Canadian Infantry Battalion will be glad to see him when he comes home;
+tell him not to cut himself on those spurs of his in the meantime; and
+you'd better advise him to warn _his father_ not to shoot his mouth off
+in future to military men about things he is ignorant of. Here's where I
+get off. Thanks for the lift."
+
+Peter left the sled, but turned at the other's voice and stood looking
+back at him.
+
+"I didn't get the hang of all that you was sayin'," said Todder. He was
+plainly disconcerted.
+
+"Never mind; your son will catch the drift of it," replied Peter. "I am
+too happy about getting home to be fussy about little things, but don't
+chat quite so freely with every returned infantryman you see about your
+son's smartness. You call it smartness--but the fellows up where I left
+my right leg have another name for it."
+
+Opening the white gate, he went up the deep and narrow path between snow
+banks to the white house. At the top of the short flight of steps that
+led to the winter porch that inclosed the front door, he looked over his
+shoulder and saw Todder still staring at him. Peter grinned and waved
+his hand, then opened the door of the porch.
+
+As he closed the door behind him, the house door opened wide before him.
+Vivia stood on the threshold. She stared at him with her eyes very round
+and her lips parted, but she did not move or speak. She held her slim
+hands clasped before her--clasped so tight that the knuckles were
+colorless. Her small face, which had been as pale as her clasped hands
+at the first glimpse, turned suddenly as red as a rose; and her eyes,
+which had been very bright even to their wonderful depths, were dimmed
+suddenly with a shimmer of tears. And for a long time--for ten full
+seconds, it may have been--Peter also stood motionless and stared. The
+heavy stick slipped from his fingers and fell with a clatter on the
+floor of the porch. He stepped forward then and enfolded her in his
+khaki-clad arms, safe and sure against the big brass buttons of his
+greatcoat; and just then the door of the porch opened, and Mr. Todder
+said:
+
+"I ain't got the hang of yer remarks yet, young feller."
+
+"Chase yourself away home," replied Peter, without turning his head; and
+there was something in the tone of his voice that caused Mr. Todder to
+withdraw his head from the porch and to retire, muttering, to his sled.
+Vivia had not paid the slightest heed to the interruption. She drew
+Peter into the hall.
+
+"I was afraid," she whispered. "I didn't know how much they had hurt
+you, Peter--but I wasn't afraid of that. I should love you just as much
+if they had crippled you,--I am so selfish in my love, Peter,--but I was
+afraid, at first, that I might see a change in your eyes."
+
+"There couldn't be a change in my eyes when I look at you, unless I were
+blind," said Peter. "Even if I were blind, I guess I could see you. But
+I am the same as I was, inside and out--all except a bit of a patent
+leg."
+
+Just then Mrs. Hammond made her discreet appearance, expressed her joy
+and surprise at the sight of Peter and ventured a motherly kiss. Mr.
+Hammond came in from the store half an hour later and welcomed Peter
+cordially. The man had lost weight, and his face was grim. He got Peter
+to himself for a few minutes just before supper.
+
+"Jim is still on the other side the border somewhere, I guess," he said,
+"though I haven't heard from him for months. I've kept the shooting
+business quiet, Peter--and even about his deserting; but I had to tell
+his mother and Vivia that he wasn't any good as a soldier and had gone
+away. I made up some kind of story about it. Other people think he's in
+France, I guess--even your folks at Beaver Dam. But what do you hear of
+Pat? He isn't much of a hand at writing letters, but was well when he
+wrote last to his mother."
+
+"I didn't see him over there, but Henry ran across him and said that he
+is doing fine work. He's got his third pip and is attached to
+headquarters of one of the brigades of the First Division as a learner.
+He has been wounded once, I believe, but very slightly."
+
+"And I used to think that Pat wasn't much good--too easy-going and
+loose-footed," said Mr. Hammond bitterly. "My idea of a man was a
+storekeeper. Well, I think of him now, and I stick out my chest--and
+then I remember Jim, and my chest caves in again."
+
+They were interrupted then by Vivia; so nothing more was said about the
+deserter. After supper Peter had to prove to the family that he could
+dance on his new leg.
+
+"I'll hitch the grays to the pung," said Mr. Hammond when about eight
+o'clock Peter got ready to go. "It's a fine night, and the roads are a
+marvel. I'll drive you home."
+
+"And I am going too," said Vivia.
+
+Dry maple sticks burned on the hearth of the big Franklin stove in the
+sitting room of Beaver Dam. Flora sat at the big table writing a letter
+to Dick; John Starkley and Jim Hammond played checkers; and Mrs.
+Starkley nodded in a chair by the fire. Emma had gone to bed. John
+Starkley had his hand raised and hovering for a master move when a
+jangle of bells burst suddenly upon their ears. Flora darted to a
+window, and the farmer hastened to the front door; but by the time Flora
+had drawn back the curtains and her father had opened the door Jim
+Hammond was upstairs and in his room.
+
+Jim did not light the candle that stood on the window sill at the head
+of his bed. He closed the door behind him. The blind was up; starshine
+from the world of white and purple and silver without sifted faintly
+into the little room. He stood for a minute in the middle of the floor,
+listening to the broken and muffled sounds of talk and laughter from the
+lower hall. He heard a trill of Vivia's laughter. What had brought Vivia
+out again, he wondered. News of Peter, beyond a doubt; and good news, to
+judge by the sounds. He seated himself cautiously on the edge of the
+bed.
+
+Now he heard his father's voice. Yes--and John Starkley was laughing.
+There was another man's voice, but he could hear only a low note of it
+now and then in the confused, happy babble of sound. A door shut--and
+then he could not hear anything. He wondered who the third man was and
+decided that he probably was some one from the village who had just
+arrived home and who had brought messages from Peter. Perhaps, he
+thought, Peter was even then on his way from England.
+
+Jim sat there with the faint shine of the stars falling soft on the rag
+carpet at his feet and thought what wonderful people the Starkleys were.
+They had taken him in and treated him like one of the family--and like a
+white man. Now that Peter was coming home and would be able to help with
+the work, he would go away and show John Starkley that he had found his
+courage and his manhood. He had made his plans in a general way weeks
+before. He would go to another province and enlist in the artillery or
+in the infantry under an assumed name; if he "made good," or got killed,
+John Starkley would tell all the good he could of him to his family in
+Stanley. Already he felt lonely, a dreary chill of homesickness, at the
+thought of leaving Beaver Dam.
+
+A door opened and closed downstairs, but Jim Hammond was too busy with
+his thoughts and high resolves to hear the faint sounds. He even did not
+hear the feet on the carpeted stairs--and a hand was on the latch of the
+door before he knew that some one was about to enter the room. He sat
+rigid and stared at the door.
+
+The door opened and some one entered who bulked large and tall in the
+pale half gloom of the room. The visitor halted and turned his face
+toward the bed.
+
+"Who's there?" he asked; and Jim could see the shoulders lower and
+advance a little and the whole figure become tense as if for attack.
+
+"It's me, Peter!" whispered Jim sharply "Shut the door quick!"
+
+"You! You, Jim Hammond!" said Peter in a voice of amazement and anger.
+"What the mischief are you doing here?" Without turning his face from
+the bed he shut the door behind him with his heel. "Light the candle and
+pull down the shade. Let me see you."
+
+Jim got to his feet and reached for the shade, but Peter spoke before he
+touched it.
+
+"No! The candle first!" exclaimed Peter, with an edge to his voice. "I
+don't trust you in the dark any more than I trust you in the woods."
+
+Hammond struck a match and lit the candle, then drew down the shade and
+turned with his back to the window. His face was pale. "I didn't figure
+on your getting home so soon," he said in an unsteady voice. "I didn't
+intend to be here. I thought I'd be gone before you came."
+
+"What are you doing here, anyway?" demanded Peter. "What's the game?
+Sitting in my room, on my bed, quite at home, by thunder! And your
+father thinks you are in the States. Does my father know you are here?"
+
+Jim smiled faintly. "Yes, he knows--and all your folks know. I've been
+here since about the middle of October, working, and sleeping in this
+room every night. My people don't know where I am--but when I get to
+France you can tell them. Your father doesn't know that it was I who
+fired that shot--and when I found you hadn't told him that, or even that
+I was a deserter, I felt it was up to me to do my best for you while you
+were away. So I've worked hard and been happy here; and I'll be sorry to
+go away--but I must go now that you're home again. Don't tell my people
+I'm here, Peter."
+
+"You have been living here ever since the middle of October, working
+here, and your own father and mother don't know where you are?"
+
+"Your people are the only ones who know."
+
+Peter eyed him in silence for a minute.
+
+"Why did you shoot me, Jim?" he asked more gently.
+
+"How do I know?" exclaimed Hammond. "I was drinking; I was just about
+mad with drink. I liked you well enough, Peter,--I didn't want to kill
+you,--but the devil was in me. It was drink made me act so bad in St.
+John; it was drink made me desert; it was drink that came near making a
+murderer of me. That's the truth, Peter--and now I wish you'd go
+downstairs, for I don't want my father or Vivia to find me here--or to
+know anything about me till I'm in France."
+
+"Shall I find you here when I come back?" asked Peter.
+
+"I'll come downstairs as soon as they go," said Hammond.
+
+Peter was about to leave the room when he suddenly remembered the errand
+that had brought him away from the company downstairs. It was a
+photograph of himself taken at the age of five years. Vivia had heard of
+it and asked for it; and before either of his parents or Flora had been
+able to think of a way of stopping him he had started upstairs for it.
+Now he found it on the top of a shelf of old books and wiped off the
+dust on his sleeve.
+
+"Vivia wants it," he said, smiling self-consciously.
+
+He found Flora waiting at the head of the stairs for him.
+
+"It's all right; I've had a talk with him," he whispered, and when he
+reached the sitting room he met the anxious glances of his parents with
+a smile and nod that set their immediate anxieties at rest.
+
+It was past midnight when Vivia and her father drove away. Then Jim came
+downstairs, and Peter shook hands with him in the most natural way in
+the world.
+
+"When we met in my bedroom we were both too astonished to shake hands,"
+explained Peter.
+
+"You must sleep in Dick's room now, Peter," said Mrs. Starkley.
+
+"Only for one night," said Jim, trying to smile but making a poor job of
+it. "I'll be off to-morrow, now that Peter is home again--just as I
+planned all along, you know. I--it isn't the going back to the army I
+mind; it is--leaving you people."
+
+He smiled more desperately than ever.
+
+Mrs. Starkley and Flora did not dare trust their voices to reply. John
+Starkley laid a hand on Jim's shoulder and said, "Go when it suits you,
+Jim, and come back when it suits you--and we shall miss you when you are
+away, remember that."
+
+The three men sat up for another hour, talking of Peter's experiences
+and Jim's plans. They went upstairs at last, but even then neither Peter
+nor Jim could sleep, for the one was restless with happiness and the
+other with the excitement of impending change. Peter would see Vivia on
+the morrow, and Jim would meet strange faces. Peter had returned to the
+security that he had fought and shed his blood for and to the life and
+people he loved; Jim's fighting was all before him, and behind him a
+disgrace to be outlived.
+
+After a while Peter got up and went to Jim's room in his pyjamas; he sat
+on the edge of Jim's bed, and they talked of the fighting over in
+France.
+
+"I've been thinking about my reenlistment," said Jim, "and I guess I'll
+take a chance on my own name. It's my name I want to make good."
+
+"Sounds risky--but I don't believe it is as risky as it sounds," said
+Peter.
+
+"Not if I go far enough away to enlist--to Halifax or Toronto. There
+must be lots of Hammonds in the army. I'll take the risk, anyway. It
+isn't likely I'll run across any of the old crowd. None of our old
+officers would be hard on me, I guess, if they found me fighting and
+doing my duty."
+
+"Capt. Long is dead. A great many of the old crowd are dead, and others
+have been promoted out of the regiment. Remember Dave Hammer?"
+
+"Yes. If I could ever be as good a soldier as Dave Hammer I think I'd
+forget--except sometimes in the middle of the night, maybe--what a mean,
+worthless fellow I have been."
+
+"I'll tell you what, Jim," said Peter suddenly, "I'll write a letter for
+you to carry; and if any one spots you over there and is nasty about it,
+you go to any officer you know in the old battalion and tell the truth
+and show my letter. I guess that will clear your name, Jim, if you do
+your duty."
+
+"You don't mean to put _everything_ in the letter, do you?"
+
+"Only what is known officially--that you went home from your regiment
+here in Canada on pass, started acting the fool and deserted. That is
+the charge against you, Jim--desertion. But it is the mildest sort of
+desertion, and reenlistment just about offsets it. The same thing done
+in France in the face of the enemy is punished--you know how."
+
+"Yes, I know how it is punished," said Hammond. "You wouldn't worry
+about that if you knew as much about how I feel now as I do myself. Of
+course I've got to prove it before you'll believe it, Peter, but I'm not
+afraid to fight."
+
+When Peter had gone back to his room, he sat down to write the letter
+that Jim Hammond was to carry in his pocket. It was a long letter, and
+Peter was a slow writer. He spared no pains in making every point of his
+argument perfectly clear. He staked the military reputation of the whole
+Starkley family on James Hammond's future behavior as a soldier. He
+sealed it with red wax and his great-grandfather's seal and addressed
+the envelope to "Any Officer of the 26th Can. Infty. Bn. or of any Unit
+of the Can. Army Corps of the B. E. F." When finally he had the letter
+done, it was morning.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VIII
+
+                           THE 26TH "MOPS UP"
+
+
+AFTER Jim Hammond went away from Beaver Dam he wrote to Mrs. Starkley
+from Toronto, saying that he had enlisted in a new infantry battalion
+and that all was well with him. That was the last news from him, or of
+him, to be received at Beaver Dam for many months.
+
+The war held and crushed and sweated on the western front. Every day
+found the Canadians in the grinding and perilous toil of it. In April,
+1916, the Second Canadian Division held the ground about St. Eloi
+against terrific onslaughts. Then and there were fought those desperate
+actions known as the Battles of the Craters. Hiram Sill, D. C. M., now a
+sergeant, received a wound that put him out of action for nearly two
+months. Dick Starkley was buried twice, once beneath the lip of one of
+the craters as it returned to earth after a jump into the air, and again
+in his dugout. No bones were broken, but he had to rest for three days.
+
+Other Canadian divisions moved into the Ypres salient in April--back to
+their first field of glory of the year before. That salient of terrible
+fame, advanced round the battered city of Ypres like a blunt spearhead
+driven into the enemy's positions, will live for centuries after its
+trenches are leveled. British soldiers have fallen in their tens of
+thousands in and beyond and on the flanks of that city of destruction.
+From three sides the German guns flailed it through four desperate
+years. Masses of German infantry surged up and broke against its torn
+edges, German gas drenched it, liquid fire scorched it, and mines
+blasted it. Now and again the edge of that salient was bent inward a
+little for a day or a week; but in those four years no German set foot
+in that city of heroic ruins except as a prisoner.
+
+The 26th Battalion celebrated Dominion Day--July 1st--by raiding a
+convenient point of the German front line. The assault was made by a
+party of twenty-five "other ranks" commanded by two junior officers. It
+was supported by the fire of our heavy field guns and heavy and medium
+trench mortars.
+
+Sergts. Frank Sacobie and Hiram Sill were of the party, but Dick
+Starkley was not. Dick could not be spared for it from his duties with
+his platoon, for he was in acting command during the enforced absence of
+Lieut. Smith, who was suffering at a base hospital from a combination of
+gas and fever. The men from New Brunswick were observed by the garrison
+of the threatened trench while they were still on the wrong side of the
+inner line of hostile wire, and a heavy but wild fire was opened on them
+with rifles and machine guns. But the raiders did not pause. They passed
+through the last entanglement, entered the trench, killed a number of
+the enemy and collected considerable material for identification. Their
+casualties were few, and no wound was of a serious nature. Hiram Sill
+was dizzy and bleeding freely, but cheerful. One small fragment of a
+bomb had cut open his right cheek, and another had nicked his left
+shoulder. Sacobie carried him home on his back.
+
+It was a little affair, remarkable only as a new way of celebrating
+Dominion Day, and differed only in minor details from hundreds of other
+little bursts of aggressive activity on that front.
+
+Later in the month a Distinguished Service Order, two Military Crosses,
+four Distinguished Conduct Medals and five Military Medals were awarded
+to the battalion in recognition of its work about St. Eloi. Dick
+Starkley and Frank Sacobie each drew a D. C. M. A few days after that
+Lieut. Smith returned from Blighty and took back the command of his
+platoon from Dick; and at the same time he informed Dick that he was
+earmarked for a commission.
+
+The Canadians began their march from the Ypres salient to the Somme on
+September 1, 1916. They marched cheerfully, glad of a change and hoping
+for the best. The weather was fine, and the towns and villages through
+which they passed seemed to them pleasant places full of friendly
+people. They were going to fight on a new front; and, as became
+soldiers, it was their firm belief that any change would be for the
+better.
+
+On the 8th of September, while on the march, Dick Starkley was gazetted
+a lieutenant of Canadian Infantry. Mr. Smith found his third star in the
+same gazette, and Dick took the platoon. Henry visited the battalion a
+few days later and presented to the new lieutenant an old uniform that
+would do very well until the London tailors were given a chance. Dick
+was a proud soldier that day; and an opportunity of showing his new
+dignity to the enemy soon occurred. That opportunity was the famous
+battle of Courcelette.
+
+From one o'clock of the afternoon of September 14 until four o'clock the
+next morning our heavy guns and howitzers belabored with high explosive
+shells the fortified sugar refinery and its strong trenches and the
+village of Courcelette beyond. Then for an hour the big guns were
+silent. The battalions of the Fourth and Sixth Brigades waited in their
+jumping-off trenches before Pozieres. The Fifth Brigade, of which the
+26th Battalion was a unit, rested in reserve.
+
+Dawn broke with a clear sky and promise of sunshine and a frosty tingle
+in the air. At six o'clock the eighteen-pounder guns of nine brigades of
+artillery, smashing into sudden activity, laid a dense barrage on the
+nearest rim of the German positions. Four minutes later the barrage
+lifted and jumped forward one hundred yards, and the infantry climbed
+out of their trenches and followed it into the first German trench. The
+fight was on in earnest, and in shell holes, in corners of trenches and
+against improvised barricades many great feats of arms were dared and
+achieved. A tank led the infantry against the strongly fortified ruins
+of the refinery and toppled down everything in its path.
+
+Lieut. Dick Starkley and his friends gave ear all morning to the din of
+battle, wished themselves farther forward in the middle of it and
+wondered whether the brigades in front would leave anything for them to
+do on the morrow. Messages of success came back to them from time to
+time. By eight o'clock, after two hours of fighting, the Canadians had
+taken the formidable trenches, the sugar refinery, a fortified sunken
+road and hundreds of prisoners. The way was open to Courcelette.
+
+"If they don't slow up--if they don't quit altogether this very
+minute--they'll be crowding right in to Courcelette and doing us out of
+a job!" complained Sergt. Hiram Sill. "That's our job, Courcelette
+is--our job for to-morrow. They've done what they set out to do, and if
+they go ahead now and try something they haven't planned for, well,
+they'll maybe bite off more than they can chew. The psychology of it
+will be all wrong; their minds aren't made up to that idea."
+
+"I guess the idee ain't the hull thing," remarked a middle-aged
+corporal. "Many a good job has been done kind of unexpectedly in this
+war. I reckon this here psychology didn't have much to do with your D.
+C. M."
+
+"That's where you're dead wrong, Henry," said Hiram. "I knew I'd get a
+D. C. M. all along, from the first minute I ever set foot in a trench.
+My mind and my spirit were all made up for it. I knew I'd get a D. C. M.
+just as sure as I know now that I'll get a bar to it--if I don't go west
+first."
+
+Dick, who had joined the group, laughed and smote Hiram on the shoulder.
+
+"You're dead right!" he exclaimed. "Old Psychology, you're a wonder of
+the age! Be careful what you make up your heart and soul and mind to
+next or you'll find yourself in command of the division."
+
+"What do you mean, lieutenant?" asked Sill.
+
+"You've been awarded the D. C. M. again, that's all!" cried Dick,
+shaking him violently by the hand. "You've got your bar, Old Psychology!
+Word of it just came through from the Brigade."
+
+Sergt. Sill blushed and grew pale and blushed again.
+
+"Say, boys, I'm a proud man," he said. "There are some things you can't
+get used to--and being decorated for distinguished conduct on the field
+of glory is one of them, I guess. If you'll excuse me, boys,--and you,
+lieutenant,--I'll just wander along that old trench a piece and think it
+over by myself."
+
+The way was open to Courcelette. The battalions that had done the work
+in a few hours and that, despite a terrific fire from the enemy, had
+established themselves beyond their final objective, were anxious to
+continue about this business without pause and clean up the strongly
+garrisoned town. They had fought desperately in those few hours,
+however, and the enemy's fire had taken toll of them, and so they were
+told to sit tight in their new trenches; but the common sense of their
+assertion that Courcelette itself should be assaulted without loss of
+time, before the beaten and astounded enemy could recover, was admitted.
+
+At half past three o'clock that afternoon the Fifth Brigade received its
+orders and instructions and immediately passed them on and elaborated
+them to the battalions concerned. By five o'clock the three battalions
+that were to make the attack were on their way across the open country,
+advancing in waves. German guns battered them but did not break their
+alignment. They reached our new trenches and, with the barrage of our
+own guns now moving before them, passed through and over the victorious
+survivors of the morning's battle.
+
+The French Canadians and the Nova Scotians went first in two waves.
+
+Dick Starkley and his platoon were on the right of the front line of the
+26th, which was the third wave of attack. "Mopping up" was the
+battalion's particular job on this occasion.
+
+"Mopping up," like most military terms, means considerably more than it
+suggests to the ear. The mops are rifles, bombs and bayonets; the things
+to be mopped are machine-gun posts still in active operation, bays and
+sections of trenches still occupied by aggressive Germans, mined cellars
+and garrisoned dugouts. Everything of a menacing nature that the
+assaulting waves have passed over or outflanked without demolishing must
+be dealt with by the "moppers-up."
+
+The two lines of the 26th advanced at an easy walk; there was about five
+yards between man and man. Each man carried water and rations for
+forty-eight hours and five empty sandbags, over and above his arms and
+kit. The men kept their alignment all the way up to the edge of the
+village. Now and again they closed on the center or extended to right or
+left to fill a gap. Wounded men crawled into shell holes or were picked
+up and carried forward. Dead men lay sprawled beneath their equipment,
+with their rifles and bayonets out thrust toward Courcelette even in
+death. The "walking wounded" continued to go forward, some unconscious
+or unmindful of their injuries and others trying to bandage themselves
+as they walked.
+
+Col. MacKenzie led them, and beside him walked a company commander. The
+two shouted to each other above the din of battle, and sometimes they
+turned and shouted back to their men. Other officers walked a few paces
+in front of their men.
+
+A bursting shell threw Dick backward into a small crater that had been
+made earlier in the day and knocked the breath out of him for a few
+seconds. Frank Sacobie picked him up. The colonel gave the signal to
+double, and the right flank of the 26th broke from a walk into a slow
+and heavy jog. Sacobie jogged beside Dick.
+
+"Just a year since we came into the line!" shouted Dick.
+
+"We were pa'tridge shootin' two years ago to-day!" bawled Sacobie.
+
+The colonel turned with his back to Courcelette and his face to his men
+and yelled at them to come on. "Speed up on the right!" he shouted. "The
+left is ahead. The 25th is in already. Shake a leg, boys. If they don't
+move quick enough in front, blow right through 'em."
+
+At the near edge of the village a number of New Brunswickers, including
+their colonel, overtook and mingled with the second line of the 22d. Our
+barrage was lifted clear of Courcelette by this time and set like a
+spouting wall of fire and earth along the far side of it; but the shells
+of the enemy continued to pitch into it, heaving bricks and rafters and
+the soil of little gardens into the vibrating twilight. Machine guns
+streamed their fire upon the invaders from attics and cellars and
+sand-bagged windows. The bombs and rifles of the 22d smashed and cracked
+just ahead; and on the left, still farther ahead, crashes and bangs and
+shouts told all who could hear the whereabouts of Hilliam and his lads
+from Nova Scotia.
+
+Dick Starkley saw a darting flicker of fire from the butt of a broken
+chimney beyond a cellar full of bricks and splintered timber. He shouted
+to his men, let his pistol swing from its lanyard and threw a bomb.
+Then, stooping low, he dashed at the jumble of ruins in the cellar. He
+saw his bomb burst beside the stump of chimney. The machine gun
+flickered again, and _spat-spat-spat_ came quicker than thought. Other
+bombs smashed in front of him, to right and left of the chimney. He got
+his right foot entangled in what had once been a baby's crib.
+
+There he was, staggering on the very summit of that low mound of
+rubbish, fairly in line with the aim of the machine gun. Something
+seized him by some part of his equipment and jerked him backward. He lit
+on his back and slid a yard, then beheld the face of Hiram Sill staring
+down at him.
+
+"Hit?" asked Hiram.
+
+"Don't think so. No."
+
+"It's a wonder."
+
+Five men from Dick's platoon joined them in the ruins. Together they
+threw seven grenades. The hidden gun ceased fire. Dick scrambled up and
+over the rubbish and around what was left of the shattered chimney that
+masked the machine-gun post. In the dim light he saw sprawled shapes and
+crouching shapes, and one stooped over the machine gun, working swiftly
+to clear it again for action. Dick pistoled the gunner. The three
+survivors of that crew put up their hands. Sergt. Sill disarmed them and
+told them to "beat it" back to the Canadian lines. Fifty yards on they
+found Sacobie and two privates counting prisoners at the mouth of a
+dugout.
+
+"Twenty-nine without a scratch," said Sacobie.
+
+"Find stretchers for them and send them back with our wounded, under
+escort," said Dick. "Put a corporal in charge. Is there a corporal
+here?"
+
+"I'm here, sir."
+
+"You, Judd? Take them back with as many of our wounded as they can
+carry. Two men with you should be escort enough. Hand over the wounded
+and fetch up any grenades and ammunition you can get hold of."
+
+Capt. Smith staggered up to Dick.
+
+"We are through and out the other side!" he gasped. "Get as many of our
+fellows as you can collect quick to stiffen this flank. Dig in beyond
+the houses--in line with the 25th. The colonel is up there somewhere."
+
+He swayed and stumbled against the platoon commander. Dick supported him
+with an arm.
+
+"Hit?" asked Dick.
+
+"Just what you'd notice," said the captain, straightening himself and
+reeling away.
+
+"Go after him and do what you can for him," said Dick to one of his men.
+"Bandage him and then go look for an M. O."
+
+Dick hurried on toward the forward edge of the village, strengthening
+his following as he went. The shelling was still heavy and the noise
+deafening, but the hand-to-hand fighting among the houses had lessened.
+Dick led his men through one wall of a house that had been hit by a
+heavy shell and through the other wall into a little garden. There were
+bricks and tiles and iron shards in that garden; and in the middle of
+it, untouched, a little arbor of grapevines. Dick passed through the
+arbor on his way to the broken wall at the foot of the garden. There
+were two benches in it and a small round table.
+
+Dick went through the arbor in a second, and then he sprang to the
+broken crest of the wall. He had scarcely mounted upon it before
+something red burst close in front of his eyes.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dick was not astonished to find himself in the old garden at Beaver Dam.
+The lilacs were in flower and full of bees and butterflies. He still
+wore his shrapnel helmet. It felt very uncomfortable, and he tried to
+take it off--but it stuck fast to his head. Even that did not astonish
+him. He saw an arbor of grapevines and entered it and sat down on a
+bench with his elbows on a small round table. He recognized it as the
+arbor he had seen that evening in Courcelette--the evening of September
+15.
+
+"I must have brought it home with me," he reflected. "The war must be
+over."
+
+Flora entered the arbor then and asked him why he was wearing an
+officer's jacket. He thought it queer that she had not heard about his
+commission.
+
+"I was promoted on the Somme--no, it was before that," he began, and
+then everything became dark. "I can't see," he said.
+
+"Don't worry about that," replied a voice that was not Flora's. "Your
+eyes are bandaged for the time being. They'll be as well as ever in a
+few days."
+
+"I must have been dreaming. Where am I--and what is wrong with me?"
+
+"You are in No. 2 Canadian General Hospital and have been dreaming for
+almost a week. But you are doing very well."
+
+"What hit me? And have I all my legs and arms?"
+
+"It must have been a whiz-bang," replied the unknown voice. "You are
+suffering from head wounds that are not so serious as we feared and from
+broken ribs and a few cuts and gashes. You must drink this and stop
+talking."
+
+Dick obediently drank it, whatever it was.
+
+"I wish you could give me some news of the battalion, and then I'd keep
+quiet for a long time," he said.
+
+"Do you want me to open and read this letter that your brother left for
+you two days ago?" asked the Sister.
+
+She read as follows:
+
+"Dear Dick. As your temperature is up and you refuse to know me I am
+leaving this note for you with the charming Sister who seems to be your
+C. O. just now. She tells me that you will be as fit as a fiddle in a
+month or so. Accept my congratulations on your escape and on the battle
+of Courcelette. I have written to Beaver Dam about it and cabled that
+you will live to fight again. Frank Sacobie and that psychological
+sergeant with a D. C. M. and bar are booked for Blighty, to polish up
+for their commissions. I called on them after the fight. They are
+well--but I can't say that they escaped without a scratch, for they both
+looked as if they had been mixing it up with a bunch of wildcats.
+Sacobie has a black eye and doesn't know who or what hit him.
+
+"Do you remember Jim Hammond? He came over to a battalion of this
+division with a draft from England about four months ago. He looked me
+up one day last week and told me a mighty queer story about himself. I
+won't try to repeat it, for I am sure he'll tell it to you himself at
+the first opportunity. He is making good, as far as I can see and hear.
+Pat Hammond has a job in London now. He was badly gassed about a month
+ago. I will get another day's special leave as soon as possible and pay
+you another visit.
+
+"Your affectionate brother, Henry Starkley."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IX
+
+                         FRANK SACOBIE OBJECTS
+
+
+WITHIN ten days of the battle of Courcelette, Lieut. Richard Starkley
+was able to see; and twenty days after that he was able to walk. His
+walking at first was an extraordinary thing, and extraordinary was the
+amount of pleasure that he derived from it. With a crutch under one
+shoulder and Sister Gilbert under the other, bandaged and padded from
+hip to neck, and with his battered but entire legs wavering beneath him,
+he crossed the ward that first day without exceeding the speed limit.
+Brother officers in various stages of repair did not refrain from
+expressing their opinions of his performance.
+
+"Try to be back for tea, old son," said a New Zealand major.
+
+"Are those your legs or mine you're fox-trotting with?" asked an English
+subaltern; and an elderly colonel called, "I'll hop out and show you how
+to walk in a minute, if you don't do better than that!"
+
+The colonel laughed, and the inmates of the other beds laughed, and Dick
+and Sister Gilbert laughed, for that, you must know, was a very good
+joke. The humor of the remark lay in the fact that the elderly colonel
+had not a leg to his name.
+
+Day by day Dick improved in pace and gait, and his activities inspired a
+number of his companions to shake an uncertain leg or two. The elderly
+colonel organized contests; and the great free-for-all race twice round
+the ward was one of the notable sporting events of the war.
+
+At last Dick was shipped to Blighty and admitted to a hospital for
+convalescent Canadian officers. There Capt. J. A. Starkley-Davenport
+soon found him. No change that the eye could detect had taken place in
+Jack Davenport. His face was as thin and colorless as when Dick had
+first seen it; his eyes were just as bright, and their glances as kindly
+and intent; his body was as frail and as immaculately garbed. Dick
+wondered how one so frail could exist a week without either breaking
+utterly or gaining in strength.
+
+"You're a wonder, Dick!" exclaimed Davenport.
+
+"It strikes me that you are the wonder," said Dick.
+
+"But they tell me that you stopped a whiz-bang and will be as fit as
+ever, nerve and body, in a little while."
+
+"I stopped bits of it--but I don't think it actually detonated on me.
+All I got was some of the splash. I was lucky!"
+
+"You were indeed," said the other, with a shadow in his eyes. "I was
+lucky, too--though there have been times when I have been fool enough to
+wish that I had been left on the field." Then he straightened his thin
+shoulders and laughed quietly. "But if I had gone west I should have
+missed Frank Sacobie and Hiram Sill. They lunched with me last week and
+have promised to turn up on Sunday. You'll be right for Sunday, Dick,
+and I'll have a pucka party in your honor."
+
+"How are they, and what are they up to?" asked Dick.
+
+"They are at the top of their form, both of them, and up to anything,"
+replied Davenport. "Your Canadian cadet course is the stiffest thing of
+its kind in England, but it doesn't seem to bother those two. Frank is
+smarter than anything the Guards can show and is believed to be a rajah;
+and Hiram writes letters to Washington urging the formation of an
+American division to be attached to the Canadian Corps and suggesting
+his appointment to the command of one of the brigades."
+
+"Those letters must amuse the censors," said Dick with a grin.
+
+"I imagine they do. Washington hasn't answered yet; and so Hiram is
+getting his dander up and is pitching each letter a little higher than
+the one before it. Incidentally, he has a great deal to say to our War
+Office, and his novel suggestions for developing trench warfare seem to
+have awakened a variety of emotions in the brains and livers of a lot of
+worthy _brass hats_."
+
+Dick laughed. "What are his ideas for developing trench warfare?"
+
+"One is the organization of a shot-gun platoon in every battalion. The
+weapon is to be the duck gun, number eight bore, I believe. Hiram
+maintains that, used within a range of one hundred and fifty yards,
+those weapons would be superior to any in repulsing attacks in mass and
+in cleaning up raided trenches. He is a great believer in the deadly and
+demoralizing effects of point-blank fire."
+
+"He is right in that--once you get rid of the parapet."
+
+"He gets rid of the parapet with the point-blank fire of what he calls
+trench cannon--guns, three feet long, mounted so that they can be
+carried along a trench by four men; they are to fire ten- or
+twelve-pound high explosive shells from the front line smack against the
+opposite parapet."
+
+"It sounds right, too; but so many things sound right that work all
+wrong. What are his other schemes?"
+
+"One has to do with a thundering big six-hooked grapnel, with a wire
+cable attached, that is to be shot into the hostile lines from a big
+trench mortar and then winched back by steam. He expects his
+grapnel--give him power enough--to tear out trenches, machine-gun posts
+and battalion headquarters, and bring home all sorts of odds and ends of
+value for identification purposes. Can't you see the brigadier stepping
+out before brekker to take a look at the night's haul?"
+
+"My hat! What did the War Office think of that?"
+
+"An acting assistant something or other of the name of Smythers and the
+rank of major was inspired by it to ask Hiram whether he had ever served
+in France. Hiram put over a twenty-page narrative of his exploits with
+the battalion, with appendixes of maps and notes and extracts from
+brigade and battalion orders, and, so far as I know, the major has not
+yet recovered sufficiently to retaliate."
+
+"Well, I hope Frank Sacobie has left the War Office alone."
+
+"Frank writes nothing and says very little more than that. He seems to
+give all his attention to his kit; but I have a suspicion that he is a
+deep thinker. However that may be, his taste in dress is astonishingly
+good, and his deportment in society is in as good taste as his
+breeches."
+
+"So he has a good time?"
+
+"He is very gay when he comes up to town," answered Davenport.
+
+"He deserves a good time, but he can't get it and at the same time doll
+himself up, even in uniform, on his pay. How does he do it?"
+
+"You have guessed it, Dick."
+
+"I think I have."
+
+"Then there is no need of my saying much about it. I live on one sixth
+of my income. That leaves five sixths for my friends; and often, Dick,
+it is the thought of the spending of the five parts that gives me
+courage to go on keeping life in this useless body with the one part.
+Sometimes a soldier's wife buys food for herself and children, or pays
+the rent, with my money; and the lion's share of the pleasure of that
+transaction is mine. Sometimes a chap on leave spends a fistful of my
+treasury notes on dinners for himself and his girl; and those dinners
+give me more pleasure than the ones I eat myself. I haven't much of a
+stomach of my own now, you know; and I haven't a girl of my own to take
+out to one--even if Wilson would let me go out at night. It is not
+charity. I satisfy my own lost hunger for food through the medium of
+poor people with good appetites: I have my fun and cut a dash in new
+breeches and swagger service jackets through the medium of hard fighting
+fellows from France. I am not apologizing, you understand."
+
+"You needn't," said Dick dryly; and then they both laughed.
+
+Hiram Sill and Frank Sacobie called on Dick at the hospital soon after
+ten o'clock on Sunday morning. They had come up to town the evening
+before. The greetings of the three friends were warm. Sacobie's pleasure
+at the reunion found no voice, but shone in his eyes and thrilled in the
+grip of his hand. Hiram Sill added words to the message of his beaming
+face. He expressed delighted amazement at Dick's appearance.
+
+"I couldn't quite believe it until now," he said. "Neither could you if
+you had seen yourself as we saw you when you were picked up. Nothing the
+matter with your face, except a dimple or two that you weren't born
+with. All your legs and arms still your own. I'd sooner see this than a
+letter from Washington. With your luck you'll live to command the
+battalion."
+
+Dick grinned. His greetings to his friends had been as boyishly
+impulsive and cheery as ever; yet there was something looking out
+through the affection in his eyes that would have puzzled his people in
+New Brunswick if they had seen it. There was a question in the look and
+a hint of anxiety and perhaps the faintest shade of the airs of a fond
+father, a sympathetic judge and a hopeful appraiser. Frank and Hiram
+recognized and accepted it without thought or question. The look was
+nothing more than the shadow of the habit of responsibility and command.
+
+Hiram talked about Washington and the War Office, and discussed his
+grapnel idea with considerable heat. Frank Sacobie took no part in that
+discussion and little in the general conversation. Soon after twelve
+o'clock all three set out in a taxicab for Jack Davenport's house.
+
+The luncheon was successful. The other guests were three women--a cousin
+of Jack's on the Davenport side and her two daughters. The host and
+Hiram Sill both conversed brilliantly. Frank was inspired to make at
+least five separate remarks of some half dozen words each. Dick soon let
+the drift of the general conversation escape him, so interested did he
+become in the girl on his right.
+
+Kathleen Kingston seemed to him a strange mixture of shyness and
+self-possession, of calmness and vivacity. The coloring of her small
+face was wonderfully mobile--so Dick expressed it to himself--and yet
+her eyes were frank, steady and unembarrassed. Her voice was curiously
+low and clear.
+
+Dick was conscious of feeling a vague and unsteady wonder at himself.
+Why this sudden interest in a girl? He had never felt anything of the
+kind before. Had this something to do with the wounds in his head? He
+could not entertain that suggestion seriously. However that might be, he
+felt that his sudden interest in this young person whom he had not so
+much as heard of an hour ago greatly increased his interest in many
+things. He was conscious of a sure friendship for her, as if he had
+known her for years. He knew that this friendship was a more important
+thing to him than his friendships with Hiram Sill and Frank Sacobie--and
+yet those friendships had grown day by day, strengthened week by week
+and stood the test of suffering and peril.
+
+She told him that her father was still in France, but safe now at
+General Headquarters, that her eldest brother had been killed in action
+in 1914, that another was fighting in the East, and that still another
+was a midshipman on the North Sea. Also, she told him that she wanted to
+go to France as a V. A. D., that she had left school six months ago and
+was working five hours every day making bandages and splints, and that
+she was seventeen years old. Those confidences melted Dick's tongue. He
+told her his own age and that he had added a little to it at the time of
+enlisting; he spoke of night and daylight raids and major offensive
+operations in which he had taken part, of the military careers of Henry
+and Peter and of life at Beaver Dam. She seemed to be as keenly
+interested in his confidences as he had been in hers. In the library,
+where coffee was served, Dick continued to cling to his new friend.
+
+The party came to an end at last, leaving Dick in a somewhat scattered
+state of mind. Before leaving with her daughters, Mrs. Kingston gave her
+address and a cordial invitation to make use of it to each of the three.
+Before long Wilson took Jack off to bed. Then Hiram left to keep an
+appointment at the Royal Automobile Club with a captain who knew some
+one at the War Office. That left Frank and Dick with Jack Davenport's
+library to themselves. One place was much the same as another to Dick
+just then. He was again wondering if he could possibly be suffering in
+some subtle and painless way from the wounds in his head. With enquiring
+fingers he felt the spotless bandage that still adorned the top of his
+head.
+
+Sacobie got out of his chair suddenly, with an abruptness of movement
+that was foreign to him, and walked the length of the room and back. He
+halted before Dick and stared down at him keenly for several seconds
+without attracting that battered youth's attention. So he fell again to
+pacing the room, walking lightly and with straight feet, the true Indian
+walk. At last he halted again in front of Dick's chair.
+
+"I am not going back to the battalion," he said.
+
+Dick sat up with a jerk and stared at him.
+
+"I am not going back," repeated Sacobie. "I shall get my commission,
+that is sure; but I shall not be an officer in the battalion."
+
+"Why the mischief not?" exclaimed Dick. "What's the matter with the
+battalion, I'd like to know?"
+
+"Nothing," replied the other. He moved away a few paces, then turned
+back again. "A good battalion. I was a good sergeant there. But I met
+Capt. Dodds, on leave, one day, and we had lunch together at Scott's;
+and he feel pretty good--he felt pretty good--and he talked a lot. He
+told me how some officers and other ranks say the colonel didn't do
+right when he put in my name for cadet course and a commission. You know
+why, Dick. So I don't go back to the infantry with my two stars."
+
+"Do you mean because you are an Indian? That is rot!"
+
+"No, it is good sense. You think about it hard as I have thought about
+it day and night. They don't say I don't know my job. The captain told
+me the colonel was right and everybody knew it when he said I should
+make the best scout officer in the brigade; and the men like me, you
+know that; but the men don't want an Injun for an officer. They are
+white men. I am a Malecite--red. That is right. I don't go back with my
+officer stars."
+
+"Do you mean that you won't take your commission?" asked Dick.
+
+"No. I take it, sure. But not in the 26th."
+
+Dick did not argue. He had never considered his friend's case in that
+light before, but now he knew that Sacobie was right. The
+noncommissioned officers and men would not question Frank's military
+qualifications, his ability or his personal merits. His race was the
+only thing about him to which they objected--and that appeared
+objectionable in him only when they considered him as an officer. As a
+"non-com" he was one of themselves, but as an officer they must consider
+him impersonally as a superior. There was where the New Brunswick
+soldiers would cease to consider their friend and comrade Frank Sacobie
+and see only a member of an inferior race. Their point of view would
+immediately revert to that of the old days before the war, when they
+would have laughed at a Malecite's undertaking to perform any task
+except paddling a canoe.
+
+"Will you transfer to another battalion?" asked Dick, as a result of his
+reflections.
+
+Frank shook his head but made no reply.
+
+"Then to an English battalion?" Dick persisted. "There are dozens that
+would be glad to have you, Frank. A Canadian with your record would not
+have to look far for a job in this war. Jack Davenport's old regiment
+would snap you up quick as a wink, commission and all, I bet a dollar."
+
+The other smiled gravely. "That is right," he said. "Capt. Davenport is
+my friend and knows what I am; but most English people want me to be
+some kind of prince from India. I am myself--a Canadian soldier. I don't
+want to play the monkey. Two-Blanket Sacobie was a big chief, with his
+salmon spear and sometimes nothing to eat. His squaw chopped the wood
+and carried the water. I am not a prince, nor I'm not a monkey. I come
+to the war, and the English people call me rajah; but the Englishman
+come to our country and hire me for a guide in the woods and call me a
+nigger. No, I am myself with what good I have in me. I can do to fight
+the Germans, and that is all I want, Dick. I try to be a gentleman, like
+Peter and Capt. Davenport, and the King will make me an officer. That is
+good. I will join the Royal Flying Corps. Then they will name me for
+what I am by what I do."
+
+Dick gripped Frank's right hand in a hearty clasp of respect and
+admiration.
+
+"You're a brick!" he said. "Jack was right when he said you were a deep
+thinker."
+
+"I got to think deep--deeper than you," said Frank. "I got to think all
+for myself, because my fathers didn't think at all."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X
+
+                        DICK OBLIGES HIS FRIEND
+
+
+BOTH Hiram Sill and Frank Sacobie completed the cadet course and passed
+the final examinations. After one last fling at Washington and one more
+astounding suggestion to the War Office, Mr. Sill went back to France
+and his battalion and took command of a platoon. Mr. Sacobie
+transferred, with his new rank, to the Royal Flying Corps and
+immediately began another course of instruction. His brother officers
+decided that he was of a family of Italian origin. He did not bother his
+head about what they thought and applied himself with fervor to
+mastering the science of flying.
+
+Dick recovered his strength steadily. He saw Davenport frequently and
+the Kingstons still more frequently. His friendship with the
+Kingstons--particularly with Kathleen--deepened without a check. No two
+days ever went by consecutively without his seeing one or another of
+that family--usually one.
+
+On a certain Tuesday morning near the end of November he left the
+hospital at ten o'clock in high spirits. He had that morning discarded
+his last crutch and now moved along with the help of two big sticks. The
+dressing on his head was reduced to one thin strip of linen bound
+smoothly round just above the line of his eyebrows. It showed beneath
+his cap and gave him somewhat the air of a cheerful brigand. Though his
+left foot came into contact with the pavement very gingerly, he twirled
+one of the heavy sticks airily every now and again.
+
+Dick found Jack Davenport in the library. A woman and two little girls
+were leaving the library as he entered. The woman was poorly dressed,
+and her eyelids were red from recent tears--but now a look of relief,
+almost of joy, shone in her eyes. She turned on the threshold.
+
+"Bill will have more heart now, sir, for the fighting of his troubles
+and miseries over there," she said. "If I were to stand and talk an
+hour, sir, I couldn't tell you what's in my heart--but I say again, God
+bless you for your great kindness!"
+
+She turned again then and passed Dick, and the butler opened the big
+door and bowed her out of the house with an air of cheery good will.
+
+Capt. Starkley-Davenport sat with his crutch and stick leaning against
+the table. On the cloth within easy reach his check book lay open before
+him. He was dressed with his usual completeness of detail and studied
+simplicity.
+
+"Have you been boarded yet?" asked Jack.
+
+"To-morrow," replied Dick. "All the M. O.'s are friends of mine, so I
+expect to wangle back to my battalion in two weeks."
+
+Jack smiled and shook his head. "Your best friend in the world--or the
+maddest doctor in the army--wouldn't send you back to France on one leg,
+old son. Six weeks is nearer the mark."
+
+"I can make it in two. You watch me."
+
+"And is it still your old battalion, Dick? I have refrained from
+worrying you about it this time, because you deserved a rest--but I'm
+keener than ever to see you in my old outfit; and your third pip is
+there for you to put up on the very day of your transfer."
+
+"I've been thinking about it, Jack--and of course I'd like to do it
+because you want me to. But the colonel wouldn't understand. No one who
+does not know you would understand. People would think I'd done it for
+the step, or that I hadn't hit it off, as an officer, with the old
+crowd. I want to stay, and yet I want to go. I want to fight on, as far
+as my luck will take me, with the 26th, and yet I'd be proud as a
+brigadier to sport three pips with your lot. As for doing something that
+you want me to do--why, to be quite frank with you, there isn't another
+man in the world I'd sooner please than you. Give me a few months more
+in which to decide. Give me until my next leave from France."
+
+Dick had become embarrassed toward the end of his speech, and now he
+looked at Davenport with a red face. The other returned the glance with
+a flush on his thin cheeks.
+
+"Bless you, Dick," he said and looked away. "Your next leave from
+France," he continued. "Six or seven months from now, with luck. They
+don't give me much more than that." Dick stared at his friend.
+
+"I had to send for an M. O. early this morning," Jack went on in a level
+voice. "Wilson did it; he heard me fussing about. By seven o'clock there
+were three of the wisest looking me over--all three familiar with my
+case ever since I got out of hospital. They can't do anything, for
+everything that could be removed--German metal--was dug out long ago. A
+few odds and ends remain, here and there--and one or another of those is
+bound to get me within ten or twelve months. So it will read in the
+_Times_ as 'Died of wounds,' after all."
+
+Dick's face turned white. "Are you joking?" he asked.
+
+"Not I, old son," said the captain, smiling. "I have a sense of
+humor--but it doesn't run quite to that."
+
+"And here you are all dolled up in white spats! Jack, you have a giant's
+heart! And worrying about me and your regiment! Jack, I'll do it! I'll
+transfer. I'll put in my application to-day."
+
+"No. I like your suggestion better. Wait till your next leave from
+France. I have taken a fancy to that idea. You'll come home in six or
+seven months, and you'll ask me to let you put off your decision until
+you return again. Of course I shall have to say yes--and, since I am
+determined to see the Essex badges on you, I'll wait another six or
+seven months. I am stubborn. Between your indecision and my
+stubbornness, the chances are that I'll fool the doctors. That would be
+a joke, if you like!"
+
+Dick hobbled round the table and grasped Jack's hand.
+
+"Done!" he exclaimed. "I am with you, Jack. We'll play that game for all
+it is worth. But you didn't seriously believe what the doctors said, did
+you?"
+
+"Yes, until five minutes ago."
+
+"Two years ago they said you would be right as wheat in six months; and
+now they say you will be dead in a year. If they think they're
+prophets--they are clean off their job. Would they bet money on it? I
+don't think! One year! Fifty years would have sounded almost as knowing
+and a good sight more likely."
+
+Dick stayed to luncheon, and he remained at the table after Wilson had
+taken Jack away to lie down. Wilson came back within fifteen minutes and
+found the Canadian subaltern where he had left him.
+
+"Sir, I am anxious about Capt. Jack," he said.
+
+"Why do you say that?" asked Dick.
+
+"Sir Peter Bayle and two other medical gentlemen of the highest standing
+warned him this very morning, sir, that he was only one year more for
+this world; and now he is singing, sir,--a thing he has not done in
+months,--and a song which runs, sir, with your permission, 'All the boys
+and girls I chance to meet say, Who's that coming down the street? Why,
+it's Milly; she's a daisy'--and so on, sir. I fear his wounds have
+affected his mind, sir."
+
+"Wilson, I know that song and approve of it," said Dick. "If Sir Peter
+Bayle told you, in November, 1916, that you were to die in November,
+1917, of wounds received in 1914, should you worry? Nix to that! You
+would seriously suspect that Sir Peter had his diagnosis of your case
+mixed up in his high-priced noddle with Buchan's History of the War; and
+if you are the man I think you are, you, too, would sing."
+
+"I thank you, Mr. Richard. You fill my heart with courage, sir," said
+Wilson.
+
+Dick reached the Kingston house at four o'clock and was shown as usual
+into the drawing-room. The ladies were not there, but an officer whom
+Dick had never seen before stood on the hearthrug with his back to the
+fire. He wore the crown and star of a lieutenant colonel on his
+shoulders, a wound stripe on his left sleeve, the red tabs of the
+general staff on his collar, on his right breast the blue ribbon of the
+Royal Humane Society's medal and on his left breast the ribbons of the
+D. S. O., of the Queen's and the King's South African medals, of several
+Indian medals and of the Legion of Honor. His figure was slight and of
+little more than the medium height. A monocle without a cord shone in
+his right eye, and his air was amiable and alert. Dick halted on his two
+sticks and said, "I beg your pardon, sir."
+
+The other flashed a smile, advanced quickly and in two motions put Dick
+into a deep chair and took possession of the sticks. Then he shook the
+visitor's hand heartily.
+
+"Glad to see you," he said. "There is no mistaking you. You are
+Kathleen's Canadian subaltern. I am Kathleen's father."
+
+Dick knew that there were plenty of suitable things to say in reply, but
+for the life of him he could not think of one of them. So he said
+nothing, but returned the colonel's smile.
+
+"Don't be bashful, Dick," continued the other. "I was a boy myself not
+so long ago as you think--but I hadn't seen a shot fired in anger when I
+was your age. It's amazing. I wonder what weight of metal has gone over
+your head, not to mention what has hit you and fallen short. Tons and
+tons, I suppose. It's an astounding war, to my mind. Don't you find it
+so?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Dick.
+
+"And you are right," continued the other. "I wish I were your age, so as
+to see it more clearly. Stupendous!"
+
+At that moment Mrs. Kingston and the two girls entered. It had been
+Dick's and Kathleen's intention to go out to tea; but the colonel upset
+that plan by saying that he was very anxious to hear Dick talk. So they
+remained at home for tea--and the colonel did all the talking. Dick
+agreed with everything he said about the war, however, and then he said
+that Dick was right--so it really made no difference after all which of
+them actually said the things.
+
+During the ten days of the colonel's leave he and Dick became firm
+friends. They knocked about town together every morning, often lunched
+with Jack Davenport and every afternoon and evening took Mrs. Kingston
+and the girls out. Dick dined at home with the family on the colonel's
+last night of leave. After dinner, when the others left the table, the
+colonel detained Dick with a wink.
+
+"I won't keep you from Kathleen ten minutes, my boy," he said. "I want
+to tell you, in case I don't see you again for a long time,--meetings
+between soldiers are uncertain things, Dick,--that this little affair
+between you and my daughter has done me good to see. You are both
+babies, so don't take it too seriously. Take it happily. Whatever may
+happen in the future, you two children will have something very
+beautiful and romantic and innocent to look back at in this war. Though
+you should live to be ninety and marry a girl from Assiniboia, yet you
+will always remember this old town with pleasure. If, on the other hand,
+you should continue in your present vein--that is, continue to feel like
+this after you grow up--that it is absolutely necessary to your
+happiness to have tea with my daughter every day--well, good luck to
+you! I can't say more than that, my boy. But in the meantime, be happy."
+
+Then he shook Dick vigorously by the hand, patted his shoulder and
+pushed him out of the room.
+
+Dick handled the medical officers so ably that he and his transportation
+were ready for France on New Year's Day. The Kingstons saw him off. He
+found a seat in a first-class compartment and deposited his haversack in
+it. Then the four stood on the platform and tried in vain to think of
+something to say. Even Mrs. Kingston was silent. Officers of all ranks
+of every branch of the service, with their friends and relatives,
+crowded the long platform. Late arrivals bundled in and out of the
+carriages, looking for unclaimed seats. Guards looked at their big
+silver watches and requested the gentlemen to take their seats. Then
+Mrs. Kingston kissed Dick; then Mary kissed him; and then, lifted to a
+state of recklessness, he kissed Kathleen on her trembling lips. He saw
+tears quivering in her eyes.
+
+"When I come back--next leave--will it be the same?" he asked.
+
+She bowed her head, and the tears spilled over and glistened on her
+cheeks. Standing in the doorway of the compartment, Dick saluted, then
+turned, trod on the toes of a sapper major, moved heavily from there to
+the spurred boots of an artillery colonel and sat down violently and
+blindly on his lumpy haversack. The five other occupants of the
+compartment glanced from Dick to the group on the platform.
+
+      [Illustration: "STANDING IN THE DOORWAY OF THE COMPARTMENT,
+                            DICK SALUTED."]
+
+"We all know it's a rotten war, old son," said the gunner colonel and,
+stooping, rubbed the toes of his outraged boots with his gloves.
+
+Dick found many old faces replaced by new in the battalion. Enemy
+snipers, shell fire, sickness and promotion had been at work. Dick acted
+as assistant adjutant for a couple of weeks and was then posted to a
+company as second in command and promised his step in rank at the
+earliest opportunity. In the same company was Lieut. Hiram Sill's
+platoon. Hiram, busy as ever, had distinguished himself several times
+since his return and was in a fair way to be recommended for a Military
+Cross.
+
+The commander of the company was a middle-aged, amiable person who had
+been worked so hard during the past year that he had nothing left to
+carry on with except courage. At sight of Dick he rejoiced, for Dick had
+a big reputation. He took off his boots and belt, retired to his
+blankets and told his batman to wake him when the war was over. The
+relief was too much for him; it had come too late. The more he rested
+the worse he felt, and at last the medical officer sent him out on a
+stretcher. Fever and a general breakdown held him at the base for
+several weeks, and then he was shipped to Blighty. So Dick got a company
+and his third star, and no one begrudged him the one or the other.
+
+The Canadian Corps worked all winter in preparation for its great spring
+task. The Germans fortified and intrenched and mightily garrisoned along
+all the great ridge of Vimy, harassed the preparing legions with shells
+and bombs and looked contemptuously out and down upon us from their
+strong vantage points. Others had failed to wrest Vimy from them. But
+night and day the Canadians went on with their preparations.
+
+Word that the United States of America had declared war on Germany
+reached the toilers before Vimy on April 7; and within the week there
+came a night of gunfire that rocked the earth and tore the air. With
+morning the gunfire ceased, only to break forth again in lesser volume
+as the jumping barrages were laid along the ridge; and then, in a storm
+of wind and snow, the battalions went over on a five-division front,
+company after company, wave after wave, riflemen, bombers and Lewis
+gunners. The Canadians were striking after their winter of drudgery.
+
+One of our men, a Yankee by birth, went over that morning with a
+miniature Stars and Stripes tied to his bayonet. We cleared out the Huns
+and took the ridge; and for days the water that filled the shell holes
+and mine craters over that ground was red with Canadian blood, and the
+plank roads were slippery with it from the passing of our wounded.
+
+Dick went through that fight in front of his company and came out of it
+speechless with exhaustion, but unhit. Hiram Sill survived it with his
+arm in a sling. Maj. Henry Starkley was wounded again, again not
+seriously. Maj. Patrick Hammond was killed, and Corp. Jim Hammond was
+carried back the next day with a torn scalp and a crushed knee.
+
+On the tenth day after that battle Lieut. Hiram Sill and his company
+commander were the recipients of extraordinary news. Mr. Sill was
+requested to visit the colonel without loss of time. He turned up within
+the minute and saluted with his left hand.
+
+"You are wanted back in the U. S. A., Hiram, for instructional
+purposes," said the colonel, looking over a mess of papers at his elbow.
+"You don't have to go if you don't want to. Here it is--and to be made
+out in triplicate, of course."
+
+Hiram examined the papers.
+
+"And here is something else that will interest you," continued the
+colonel. "News for you and Dick Starkley. You have your M. C."
+
+Hiram's eyes shone.
+
+"And Dick seems to have hooked the same for his work on the Somme--and I
+had given up all hope of that coming through. I recommended him for a D.
+S. O. last week. The way these recommendations for awards are handled
+beats me. They put them all into a hat and then chuck the hat out of the
+window, I guess, and whatever recommendations are picked up in the
+street and returned through the post are approved and acted upon. I know
+a chap--come back here!"
+
+Hiram turned at the door of the hut.
+
+"Do you intend to accept that job?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You have a choice between going over to the American army with your
+rank or simply being seconded from the Canadians for that duty. What do
+you mean to do?"
+
+"Seconded, sir. I am an American citizen clear through, colonel, but I
+have worn this cut of uniform too long to change it in this war."
+
+Hiram found Dick in his billet, reading a letter. Dick received the news
+of the awards and of Hiram's appointment very quietly.
+
+"Jack Davenport has gone west," he said.
+
+Hiram sat down and stared at Dick without a word.
+
+"This letter is from Kathleen," continued Dick. "She says Jack went out
+on Monday to visit some of the people he helps. He had taken on six more
+widows and seven more babies since the Vimy show. On his way home toward
+evening he and Wilson were outside the Blackfriars underground station,
+looking for a taxi, when a lorry took a skid fair at an old woman and
+little boy who were just making the curb. Wilson swears that Jack jumped
+from the curb as if there were nothing wrong with him, landed fair in
+front of the lorry, knocked the old woman and kid out from under, but
+fell before he could get clear himself."
+
+"Killed?"
+
+"Instantly."
+
+Hiram gazed down at his muddy boots, and Dick continued to regard the
+letter in his hand.
+
+"Can you beat it?" said Hiram at last.
+
+Dick got up and paced about the little room, busy with his thoughts.
+Finally he spoke.
+
+"Sacobie is flying, and you are booked for the States, and I am going to
+transfer to Jack's old lot," he said slowly.
+
+Hiram looked up at him, but did not speak.
+
+"Jack wanted me to," continued Dick. "Well, why not? It's the same old
+army and the same old war. A fellow should make an effort to oblige a
+man like Jack--dead or alive." He was silent for several seconds, then
+went on: "Henry has been offered a staff job in London. Peter is safe.
+Sacobie has brought down four Boche machines already. What have you
+heard about Jim Hammond?"
+
+"It's Blighty for him--and then Canada. He'll never in the world bend
+that leg again."
+
+For a while Dick continued to pace back and forth across the muddy floor
+in silence.
+
+"We are scattering, Old Psychology," he said. "This war is a great
+scatterer--but there are some things it can't touch. You'll be homesick
+at your new job, Hiram,--and I'll be homesick with the Essex bunch, I
+suppose,--but there are some things that make it all seem worth the
+rotten misery of it." He glanced down at Kathleen's letter, then put it
+into his pocket. "Jack Davenport, for one," he ended.
+
+"A soldier and a gentlemen," said Hiram.
+
+                                THE END
+
+
+
+
+                           Transcriber Notes:
+
+Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
+
+Passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=.
+
+Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
+
+Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
+
+The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
+paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus
+the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in
+the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the
+same in the List of Illustrations and in the book.
+
+Errors in punctuation and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.
+
+On page 142, "comissions" was replaced with "commissions".
+
+On page 243, "harrassed" was replaced with "harassed".
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fighting Starkleys, by
+Theodore Goodridge Roberts
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIGHTING STARKLEYS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 44185.txt or 44185.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/8/44185/
+
+Produced by Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/old/44185.zip b/old/44185.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e2b97d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/44185.zip