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diff --git a/old/50735-h/50735-h.htm b/old/50735-h/50735-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 04e6ed6..0000000 --- a/old/50735-h/50735-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1952 +0,0 @@ -<!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=UTF-8" /> - <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Too Fat to Fight, by Rex Beach</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 8%; } - h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.4em; } - h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; } - p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; } - .sc { font-variant: small-caps; } - .large { font-size: large; } - .xlarge { font-size: x-large; } - .small { font-size: small; } - .xsmall { font-size: x-small; } - .lg-container-b { text-align: center; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-b { clear: both; }} - .lg-container-r { text-align: right; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-r { clear: both; }} - .linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: left; } - @media handheld { .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; }} - .linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; } - .linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } - div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; } - .linegroup .in1 { padding-left: 3.5em; } - div.pbb { page-break-before: always; } - hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom:1em; } - @media handheld { hr.pb { display: none; }} - .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always;} - .figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; } - div.figcenter p { text-align: center; text-indent: 0; } - .figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; } - .id001 { width:50px; } - .id002 { width:600px; } - .id003 { width:910px; } - @media handheld { .id001 { margin-left:47%; width:6%; }} - @media handheld { .id002 { margin-left:12%; width:75%; }} - @media handheld { .id003 { margin-left:0%; width:100%; }} - .ic002 { width:100%; } - .ig001 { width:100%; } - .table0 { margin: auto; margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%; - width: 30%; } - .table1 { margin: auto; margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 32%; margin-right: 32%; - width: 36%; } - @media handheld { .table0 { margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 0%; width: 100%; } } - @media handheld { .table1 { margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 0%; width: 100%; } } - .nf-center { text-align: center; } - .nf-center-c1 { text-align: left; margin: 1em 0; } - p.drop-capa0_0_0_6 { text-indent: -0.0em; } - p.drop-capa0_0_0_6:first-letter { float: left; margin: 0.100em 0.100em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; line-height: 0.6em; text-indent: 0; } - @media handheld { - p.drop-capa0_0_0_6 { text-indent: 0; } - p.drop-capa0_0_0_6:first-letter { float: none; margin: 0; font-size: 100%; } - } - .c000 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 1em; } - .c001 { margin-top: 1em; } - .c002 { margin-top: 4em; } - .c003 { margin-top: 2em; } - .c004 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 45%; width: 10%; margin-right: 45%; } - .c005 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; } - .c006 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; padding-right: 1em; } - .c007 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; } - .c008 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; text-indent: -1em; - padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em; } - .c009 { vertical-align: bottom; text-align: right; } - .c010 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 2em; } - .c011 { margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c012 { margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c013 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 0.8em; - margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%; width: 30%; } - .c014 { margin-left: 11.11%; margin-right: 11.11%; margin-top: 0.5em; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c015 { margin-left: 11.11%; margin-right: 11.11%; } - .c016 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .Books {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; max-width: 20em;} - </style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Too Fat to Fight, by Rex Beach - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Too Fat to Fight - -Author: Rex Beach - -Illustrator: T. D. Skidmore - -Release Date: December 21, 2015 [EBook #50735] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOO FAT TO FIGHT *** - - - - -Produced by Shaun Pinder 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> - <h1 class='c000'>TOO FAT TO FIGHT</h1> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/001.jpg' alt='decoration' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='large'><span class='sc'>Books by</span></span></div> - <div class='c001'><span class='large'>REX BEACH</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='Books'> - -<div class='lg-container-b c003'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>THE WINDS OF CHANCE</div> - <div class='line'>LAUGHING BILL HYDE</div> - <div class='line'>RAINBOW’S END</div> - <div class='line'>THE CRIMSON GARDENIA AND OTHER TALES OF ADVENTURE</div> - <div class='line'>HEART OF THE SUNSET</div> - <div class='line'>THE AUCTION BLOCK</div> - <div class='line'>THE IRON TRAIL</div> - <div class='line'>THE NET</div> - <div class='line'>THE NE’ER-DO-WELL</div> - <div class='line'>THE SPOILERS</div> - <div class='line'>THE BARRIER</div> - <div class='line'>THE SILVER HORDE</div> - <div class='line'>GOING SOME</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<hr class='c004' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK</div> - <div>[<span class='sc'>Established 1817</span>]</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div id='i_04' class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/004.jpg' alt='frontispiece' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>“PLATTSBURG. ONE WAY”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/005.jpg' alt='title page' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='sc'>Too Fat to Fight</span></div> - <div class='c001'>Copyright, 1919, by Harper & Brothers</div> - <div>Printed in the United States of America</div> - <div>Published January, 1919</div> - <div class='c001'>A-T</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='16%' /> -<col width='72%' /> -<col width='11%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='xsmall'>CHAP.</span></td> - <td class='c006'></td> - <td class='c007'><span class='xsmall'>PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>I.</td> - <td class='c006'>“<span class='sc'>Plattsburg. One Way</span>”</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#I'>11</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>II.</td> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Dimples Tries the Y. M. C. A.</span></td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#II'>22</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>III.</td> - <td class='c006'>“<span class='sc'>One Man to Every Ten!</span>”</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#III'>39</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>IV.</td> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Hill Two Eighty-five</span></td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#IV'>43</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>V.</td> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Dimples Takes Part in a Ceremony</span></td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#V'>47</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='72%' /> -<col width='27%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c008'>“<span class='sc'>Plattsburg. One Way</span>”</td> - <td class='c009'><i><a href='#i_04'>Frontispiece</a></i></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>Occasionally He Ordered His Favorite Dish, Corn-starch Pudding</span></td> - <td class='c009'><i>Facing p.</i> <a href='#i_27'>24</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>He Had Gained a Pound!</span></td> - <td class='c009'>“ <a href='#i_33'>28</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>A Rotund, Mirth-provoking Spectacle in His Bulging Uniform, with His Tiny Overseas Cap Set Above His Round, Red Face Like the Calyx of a Huge Ripe Berry</span></td> - <td class='c009'>“ <a href='#i_49'>42</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='xlarge'>TOO FAT TO FIGHT</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='xlarge'>TOO FAT TO FIGHT</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='I' class='c010'>CHAPTER I<br /> <br />“<i>Plattsburg. One Way.</i>”</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_0_6 c011'>“Plattsburg. One way,” Norman -Dalrymple told the ticket-agent. -He named his destination more loudly, more -proudly than necessary, and he was gratified -when the man next in line eyed him with -sudden interest.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Having pocketed his ticket, Dalrymple -noted, by his smart new wrist-watch with -the luminous dial, that there was still -twenty minutes before train-time. Twenty -minutes—and Shipp had a vicious habit of -catching trains by their coat-tails—a habit -doubly nerve-racking to one of Dalrymple’s -ponderous weight and deliberate disposition. -That afforded ample leeway for a -farewell rickey at the Belmont or the -Manhattan; it was altogether too long a -time to stand around. Mr. Dalrymple—his -friends called him “Dimples”—had -long since concluded that standing was an -unnatural posture for human beings, and -with every pound he took on there came -a keener appreciation of chairs, benches, -couches, divans—anything and everything -of that restful pattern except hammocks. -Hammocks he distrusted and despised, for -they had a way of breaking with the sound -of gun-shots and causing him much discomfiture.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Next to standing, Dimples abhorred -walking, for the truth is he shook when he -walked. Therefore he chose the Belmont, -that haven of rest being close at hand; but -ere he had gained the street his eye was -challenged by a sight that never failed to -arrest his attention. It was the open door -of an eating-place—the station restaurant—with -idle waiters and spotless napery within. -Now, drink was a friend, but food was an -intimate companion of whom Dimples never -tired. Why people drank in order to be -convivial or to pass an idle quarter of an -hour, the while there were sweets and pastries -as easily accessible, had always been -a mystery to him. Like a homing pigeon, -he made for this place of refreshment.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Overflowing heavily into a chair, he -wiped his full-moon face and ordered a corn-starch -pudding, an insatiable fondness for -which was his consuming vice.</p> - -<p class='c012'>As usual, Shipp made the train with a -three-second factor of safety in his favor, -and, recognizing the imposing bulk of his -traveling companion, greeted him with a -hearty:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Hello, Dimples! I knew you’d come.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>When they had settled themselves in their -compartment Dalrymple panted, breathlessly:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Gee! How I hate people who paw at -departing trains.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I made it, didn’t I? You’re getting fat -and slow—that’s what ails you. A fine -figure of an athlete you are! Why, you’re -laying on blubber by the day! You’re -swelled up like a dead horse.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I know,” Dimples nodded mournfully. -“I’ve tried to reduce, but I know too many -nice people, and they all have good <i>chefs</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Boozing some, too, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Oh, sure! And I love candy.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“They’ll take you down at Plattsburg. -Say! It’s great, isn’t it? War! The real -thing!” Shipp’s eyes were sparkling. “Of -course it came hard to give up the wife and -the baby, but—somebody has to go.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Right! And we’re the ones, because -we can afford it. I never knew how good -it is to be rich and idle—did you? But -think of the poor devils who want to go and -can’t—dependents, and all that. It’s tough -on them.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>The other agreed silently; then, with a -smile, he said:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“If they’re looking for officer material at -Plattsburg, as they say they are, why, -you’ve got enough for about three. They’ll -probably cube your contents and start you -off as a colonel.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dimples’s round, good-natured face had -become serious; there was a suggestion of -strength, determination, to the set of his -jaw when he spoke.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Thank God, we’re in at last! I’ve been -boiling ever since the Huns took Belgium. -I don’t care much for children, because most -of them laugh at me, but—I can’t stand to -see them butchered.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Plattsburg was a revelation to the two -men. They were amazed by the grim, -business-like character of the place; it looked -thoroughly military and efficient, despite -the flood of young fellows in civilian clothes -arriving by every train; it aroused their -pride to note how many of their friends and -acquaintances were among the number. -But, for that matter, the best blood of the -nation had responded. Deeply impressed, -genuinely thrilled, Shipp and Dalrymple -made ready for their physical examinations.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dimples was conscious of a jealous twinge -at the sight of his former team-mate’s massive -bare shoulders and slim waist; Shipp -looked as fit to-day as when he had made -the All-American. As for himself, Dimples -had never noticed how much he resembled -a gigantic Georgia watermelon. It was -indeed time he put an end to easy living. -Well, army diet, army exercise would -bring him back, for he well knew that -there were muscles buried deep beneath -his fat.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Step lively!” It was an overworked -medical examiner speaking, and Dimples -moved forward; the line behind him closed -up. As he stepped upon the scales the -beam flew up; so did the head of the man -who manipulated the counter-balance.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Hey! One at a time!” the latter cried. -Then with a grin he inquired, “Who’s with -you?” He pretended to look back of -Dimples as if in search of a companion, -after which he added another weight and -finally announced, in some awe:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Two eighty-five—unless I’m seeing -double.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“‘<i>Two eighty-five!</i>’” The chief examiner -started, then to Dalrymple he said: “Step -aside, sir. Fall out.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“What’s the idea?” Dimples inquired, -with a rose-pink flush of embarrassment.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“You’re overweight. Next!”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Why, sure I’m overweight; but what’s -the difference?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“All the difference in the world, sir. -We can’t pass you. Please don’t argue. -We have more work than we can attend -to.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Shipp turned back to explain.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“This is Norman Dalrymple, one of the -best tackles we ever had at Harvard. He’s -as sound as a dollar and stronger than a -bridge. He’ll come down—”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I’m sorry; but there’s nothing we can -do. Regulations, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Sure!” The man at the scales was -speaking. “Two eighty-five isn’t a weight; -it’s a telephone number.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dalrymple inquired, blankly:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Do you mean to say I can’t get in? -Why, that’s too absurd! I <i>must</i> get in! -Can’t you fix it somehow?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“You’re holding up the others. Won’t -you please step aside?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Shipp drew the giant out of line and said, -quietly:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Don’t argue. Get into your duds and -wait for me. It will be all right. We know -everybody; we’ll square it.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>But it was not all right. Nor could it -be made all right. Weary hours of endeavor -failed in any way to square matters, -and the two friends were finally forced to -acknowledge that here was an instance -where wealth, influence, the magic of a -famous name, went for naught. They were -told politely but firmly that Norman Dalrymple, -in his present state of unpreparedness, -could not take the officers’ intensive-training -course. Dimples was mortified, -humiliated; Shipp felt the disappointment -quite as keenly.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“That’s the toughest luck I ever heard -of,” the latter acknowledged. “You’ll have -to reduce, that’s all.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>But Dimples was in despair.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“It’s healthy fat; it will take longer to -run it off than to run the Germans out of -France. The war will be over before I -can do it. I want to get in <i>now</i>. Too fat -to fight! Good Lord!” he groaned. “Why, -I told everybody I was going in, and I cut -all my ties. Now to be <i>rejected!</i>” After -a time he continued: “It knocks a fellow -out to reduce so much. If I managed to -sweat it off in a hurry, I’d never be able -to pass my physical. That sort of thing -takes <i>months</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Shipp silently agreed that there was some -truth in this statement.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Tough? It’s a disgrace. I—I have -<i>some</i> pride. I feel the way I did when I -lost our big game. You remember I fumbled -and let Yale through for the winning -goal. I went back to the dressing-room, -rolled up in a blanket, and cried like a -baby. You and the other fellows were -mighty decent; you told me to forget it. -But I couldn’t. I’ve never forgotten it, -and I never shall.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Pshaw! You made good later.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I fell down when it was my ball. It’s -my ball now, Shipp, and I’ve fallen down -again. I’ve led a pretty easy, useless life, -these late years, but—I feel this thing in -Europe more than I thought I could feel -anything. I’ve contributed here and there, -let my man go, and economized generally. -I’ve adopted whole litters of French orphans, -and equipped ambulance units, and -done all the usual things the nice people -are doing, but I was out of the game, and -I wanted—Lord! how I wanted to be in it! -When we declared war, I yelled! I went -crazy. And then along came your wire to -join you in this Plattsburg course. Good -old Shipp! I knew you’d get on the job, -and it raised a lump in my throat to realize -that you were sure of me. I—was never so -happy”—the speaker choked briefly—“as -while waiting for the day to arrive. Now -I’ve fumbled the pass. I’m on the sidelines.”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='II' class='c005'>CHAPTER II<br /> <br /><i>Dimples Tries the Y. M. C. A.</i></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_0_6 c011'>Norman Dalrymple did not return -home, nor did he notify his -family of his rejection. Instead, he went -back to New York, took a room at the -quietest of his numerous clubs, engaged a -trainer, and went on a diet. He minded -neither of the latter very greatly for the -first few days, but in time he learned to -abhor both.</p> - -<p class='c012'>He shunned his friends; he avoided the -club café as he would have avoided a -dragon’s cave. The sight of a push-button -became a temptation and a trial. Every -morning he wrapped himself up like a sore -thumb and ambled round the Park reservoir -with his pores streaming; every afternoon -he chased his elusive trainer round a -gymnasium, striving to pin the man’s hateful -features, and never quite succeeding. Evenings -he spent in a Turkish bath, striving -to attain the boiling-point and failing by -the fraction of a degree. He acquired a -terrifying thirst—a monstrous, maniac -thirst which gallons of water would not -quench.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Ten days of this and he had lost three -pounds. He had dwindled away to a mere -two hundred and eighty-two, and was -faintly cheered.</p> - -<p class='c012'>But he possessed a sweet tooth—a double -row of them—and he dreamed of things -fattening to eat. One dream in particular -tried the strongest fiber of his being. It -was of wallowing through a No Man’s Land -of blanc-mange with shell-craters filled with -cream. Frozen desserts—ice-cold custards! -He trembled weakly when he thought of -them, which was almost constantly. Occasionally, -when the craving became utterly -unbearable, he skulked guiltily into a -restaurant and ordered his favorite dish, -corn-starch pudding.</p> - -<div id='i_27' class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/027.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>OCCASIONALLY HE ORDERED HIS FAVORITE DISH, CORN-STARCH PUDDING</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>At the end of three weeks he was -bleached; his face was drawn and miserable; -he looked forth from eyes like those of a -Saint Bernard. He had gained a pound!</p> - -<div id='i_33' class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/033.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>HE HAD GAINED A POUND!</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Human nature could stand no more. -Listlessly he wandered into the club café -and there came under the notice of a friend. -It was no more possible for Dimples to -enter a room unobserved than for the -<i>Leviathan</i> to slip unobtrusively into port. -The friend stared in amazement, then -exclaimed:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Why, Norm! You look sick.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“‘Sick?’” the big fellow echoed. “I’m -not sick; I’m dying.” And, since it was -good to share his burden, he related what -had happened to him. “Turned me down; -wouldn’t give me a chance,” he concluded. -“When I strained the scales, they wanted -to know who I had in my lap. I’ve been -banting lately, but I gain weight at it. It -agrees with me. Meanwhile, Shipp and the -others are in uniform.” Dimples bowed his -head in his huge, plump hands. “Think -of it! Why, I’d give a leg to be in olive -drab and wear metal letters on my collar! -‘Sick?’ Good Lord!”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I know,” the friend nodded. “I’m too -old to go across, but I’m off for Washington -Monday. A dollar a year. I’ve been -drawing fifty thousand, by the way.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I’m out of that, too,” Dimples sighed. -“Don’t know enough—never did anything -useful. But I could fight, if they’d let me.” -He raised his broad face and his eyes were -glowing. “I’m fat, but I could fight. I -could keep the fellows on their toes and -make ’em hit the line. If—if they built -ships bigger, I’d stowaway.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“See here—” The speaker had a sudden -thought. “Why don’t you try the Y?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“‘The Y?’ Yale?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“No, no. The Y. M. C. A.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Oh, <i>that</i>! I’ve hired a whole gymnasium -of my own where I can swear out -loud.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“The Y. M. C. A. is sending men overseas.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I’m not cut out for a chaplain.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“They’re sending them over to cheer up -the boys, to keep them amused and entertained, -to run huts—”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dalrymple straightened himself slowly.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I know; but I thought they were all -pulpit-pounders.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Nothing of the sort! They’re regular -fellows, like us. They manage canteens and -sell the things our boys can’t get. They -don’t let them grow homesick; they make -them play games and take care of themselves -and realize that they’re not forgotten. -Some of them get right up front -and carry hot soup and smokes into the -trenches.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Me for that!” Dimples was rising -majestically. “I could carry soup—more -soup than any man living. The trenches -might be a little snug for me round the -waist, but I’d be careful not to bulge them. -Cheer up the boys! Make ’em laugh! -Say—that would help, wouldn’t it?” He -hesitated; then, a bit wistfully, he inquired, -“The Y fellows wear—uniforms, too, don’t -they?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Well, rather. You can hardly tell them -from the army.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>In Dalrymple’s voice, when he spoke, -there was an earnestness, a depth of feeling, -that his hearer had never suspected.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Uniforms mean a lot to me lately. -Every time I see a doughboy I want to -stand at attention and throw out my chest -and draw in my stomach—as far as I can. -There’s something sacred about that olive -drab. It’s like your mother’s wedding-dress, -only holier, and decenter, if possible. -Somehow, it seems to stand for everything -clean and honorable and unselfish. The -other day I saw the old Forty-first marching -down to entrain, and I yelled and cried and -kissed an old lady. Those swinging arms, -those rifles aslant, those leggings flashing, -and that sea of khaki rising, falling—Gee! -There’s something about it. These are -great times for the fellows who aren’t too -old or too fat to fight.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Those Y men fight, in their way, just -as hard as the other boys, and they don’t -get half as much sleep or half as much attention. -Nobody makes a fuss over them.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dimples waited to hear no more. The -Y. M. C. A.! He had not realized the -sort of work it was doing. But to keep the -boys fit to fight! That was almost as good -as being one of them. And he could do it—better -than anybody. As his taxicab -sped across town he leaned back with a sigh -of contentment; for the first time in days -he smiled. The Y. M. C. A. would have no -scales! To the boys at the front a fat man -might be funnier even than a skinny one. -He was mighty glad he had heard of the -Y in time. And it would be glad he had, -for his name was worth a lot to any organization. -No more dry bread and spinach—<i>Gott -strafe</i> spinach! How he hated it! No -more exercise, either; he would break training -instantly and tell that high-priced reducer -what he really thought of him. Useful -work, work to win the war, was one -thing, but this loathsome process of trying -out abdominal lard—ugh! He decided to -dine like a self-respecting white man that -very night, and to deny himself nothing. -The club <i>chef</i> made a most wonderful corn-starch -pudding, indescribably delicious and -frightfully fattening. At the mere thought, -an eager, predatory look came into Dimples’s -eyes. He would go overseas without delay; -he would be in France doing his bit while -Shipp and the others were still rehearsing -their little tricks and learning to shout, -“Forward, ouch!” Of course those fellows -would win commissions—they were welcome -to the glory—but meanwhile he -would be right down in the dirt and the -slime with the boys in leggings, cheering -them up, calling them “Bill” and “Joe,” -sharing their big and their little troubles, -and putting the pep into them. That’s -what they needed, that’s what the world -needed—pep! It would win the war.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dalrymple was surprised when he entered -the Y. M. C. A. quarters to find them busy -and crowded. He sent in his card, then -seated himself at the end of a line of waiting -men. He wondered if, by any chance, they -could be applicants like himself, and his -complacency vanished when he learned that -they could be—that, indeed, they were. -His surprise deepened when he saw that in -no wise did they resemble psalm-shouters -and Testament-worms such as he had expected, -but that, on the contrary, they -looked like ordinary, capable business and -professional men.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dimples wondered if this were, after all, -a competitive service. He broke into a -gentle, apprehensive perspiration.</p> - -<p class='c012'>His name was called finally; he rose and -followed a boy into a room where several -men were seated at a table. Two of them -were elderly, typical; they wore various -unbecoming arrangements of white whiskers, -and one glance told Dimples that they -knew a lot about God. One of the others -resembled a judge, and he it was who -spoke first.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“You wish to go to France for the -Y. M. C. A.?” the latter inquired.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Yes, sir. They wouldn’t let me in at -Plattsburg. I’m too fat, or the camp is -too small. I’d very much like to go overseas.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“It is hardly necessary to ask if you have -had experience in promoting social entertainments -and recreations.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>The speaker smiled. Dimples’s face broke -into an answering grin.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“‘Entertainments!’ ‘Recreations!’ They -are my stock in trade. I’m an authority -on all kinds of both; that’s what ails me.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Another member of the board inquired:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Are you a temperate man, Mr. Dalrymple?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Oh no!” Dimples shook his head. -“Not at all.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“What sort of—er—beverages do you -drink?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“What have you got?” the young giant -blithely asked. Noting that his comedy -met with no mirthful response, he explained -more seriously: “Why, I drink practically -everything. I have no particular favorites. -I dare say it’s against your rules, so I’ll -taper off if you say so. I’d take the Keeley -to get across. Of course I make friends -easier when I’m moderately lit—anybody -does. I’m extraordinarily cheerful when -I’m that way. You’ve no idea how—”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Surely you understand that we tolerate -no drinking whatever?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“No, sir; I didn’t fully understand. I -know several Christian young men who -drink—more or less. However, that’s all -right with me. I’ve never tried to quit -drinking, so I’m sure I can.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Are you familiar with the character and -the aims of the Young Men’s Christian -Association?” One of the white-bearded -gentlemen put this question.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“In a general way only. I knew you had -a gym and a swimming-tank and ran some -sort of a Sunday-school. It never appealed -to me, personally, until I heard -about this work you’re doing in France. -That’s my size. That fits me like a pair -of tights.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Do you play cards?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Certainly. I’m lucky, too. Any game -the boys want, from bridge to black jack.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I mean—do you play for money?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Is that on the black list, too?” Dimples’s -enthusiasm was slowly oozing away. Noting -the falling temperature of the room, he -confessed honestly, but with some reluctance: -“I suppose I do all of the things -that ordinary idle fellows do. I drink and -gamble and swear and smoke and overeat -and sleep late. But that doesn’t hurt -me for carrying soup, does it?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>No one answered this challenge; instead, -he was the recipient of another question -that caused him to squirm.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Would you consider yourself a moral -young man?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Slowly the applicant shook his head.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“To what Church do you belong?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I don’t.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“How long since you attended divine -service?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“A good many years, I’m afraid.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>There followed a moment of silence; the -men at the table exchanged glances, and -into Dimples’s face there came an apprehensive, -hunted look. He wet his lips, then -said:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Anyhow, you can’t accuse me of mendacity. -I don’t lie. Now that you know -the worst about me, I’d like to inventory -my good points.” This he proceeded to -do, but in all honesty it must be said that -his showing was not impressive. Never -having given serious thought to his virtues, -there were few that he could recall at such -short notice. He concluded by saying: -“I know I can make good if you’ll give me -a chance. I—I’ll work like a dog, and I’ll -keep the boys laughing. I won’t let them -get homesick. I— Why, gentlemen, this is -my last chance! It will break my heart if -you turn me down.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Not unkindly the “judge” said:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“We will consider your application and -notify you.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>This very kindliness of tone caused the -fat man to pale.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I know what that means,” he protested. -“That’s Y. M. C. A. for ‘no.’ Let me go,” -he implored. “I’ll serve. I’ll stand the -punishment. I’m strong and I’ll work till -I drop. You won’t be ashamed of me, -honestly.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“We’ll notify you without delay, Mr. -Dalrymple.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>There was no more to be said. Dimples -wallowed out of the room with his head down.</p> - -<p class='c012'>That night he walked the soft-carpeted -floor of his chamber until very late, and -when he did go to bed it was not to sleep. -Daylight found him turning restlessly, his -eyes wide open and tragic. Another failure! -Within him the spirit of sacrifice burned -with consuming fury, but there was no outlet -for it. Through his veins ran the blood -of a fighting family; nevertheless, a malicious -prank of nature had doomed him to -play the part of Falstaff or of Fatty -Arbuckle. What could he do to help? -Doubtless he could find work for his hands -in ship-yard or foundry, but they were soft, -white hands, and they knew no trade. -Give? He had given freely and would give -more; but everybody was giving. No; -action called him. He belonged in the roar -and the din of things where men’s spirit tells.</p> - -<p class='c012'>That afternoon he was waddling down -Fifth Avenue when Mr. Augustus Van Loan -stopped him to exclaim:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Good Heavens, Dimples! What has -happened to you?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Van Loan was a malefactor of great -wealth. His name was a hissing upon the -lips of soap-box orators. None of his malefactions, -to be sure, had ever yet been -uncovered, nor were any of the strident-voiced -orators even distantly acquainted -with him, but his wealth was an established -fact of such enormity that in the public -eye he was suspect.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I’m all in,” the disconsolate mammoth -mumbled, and then made known his sorrow. -“Too fat to get in the army; too soft -morally to get in the Y. M. C. A. I didn’t -know how rotten I am. I can’t carry a -gun for my country; I’m not good enough -to lug soup to the boys who do. And, -meanwhile, the Huns are pressing forward.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Van Loan eyed him shrewdly.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Do you feel it as badly as all that?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dalrymple nodded.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I don’t want to be a hero. Who ever -heard of a hero with a waistband like mine? -No; I’d just like to help our lads grin and -bear it, and be a big, cheerful fat brother -to them.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Without a word Mr. Van Loan took a -card from his pocket and wrote a few lines -thereon.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Take that down to the Y and tell them -to send you on the next ship.” He handed -Dimples the card, whereupon the giant -stared at him.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“D—d’you know that outfit?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“<i>Know</i> it?” Van Loan smiled. “I’m -the fellow who’s raising the money for them. -They’ve darn near broken me, but—it’s -worth it.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>With a gurgling shout Dimples wrung the -malefactor’s hand; then he bolted for the -nearest taxi-stand and squeezed himself -through a cab door.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Ten minutes later he entered the boardroom -at the Y. M. C. A. and flung Van -Loan’s card upon the table.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Read that!” he told the astonished -occupants.</p> - -<p class='c012'>The “judge” read and passed the card -along.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Where do I go from here?” Dimples demanded, -in a voice of triumph.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Why”—the “judge” cleared his throat—“to -your tailor’s for a uniform, I should -say.”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='III' class='c005'>CHAPTER III<br /> <br />“<i>One Man to Every Ten!</i>”</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_0_6 c011'>Late the following afternoon, as the -judicial member of the Y examiners -was leaving the building, his path was -barred by a huge, rotund figure in khaki -which rose from a bench in the hall. It was -Dalrymple.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I’ve been blocking traffic here for an -hour,” the giant explained. “Look at me! -It’s the biggest uniform in New York, and -it was made in the shortest time.” Noting -the effect his appearance created, he went -on, “I suppose I do look funny, but—there’s -nothing funny to me about it.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>The elder man’s face grew serious.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I’m beginning to believe you’ll make -good, Dalrymple. I hope so, for your -sake and for the sake of the Association. -If you don’t, we’ll have to order you -back.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I’ll take that chance. You gentlemen -think I’m unfit to wear these clothes and—maybe -I was yesterday, or even this morning. -But when I saw myself in this uniform -I took stock and cleaned house. I -got all my bad habits together and laid -them away in moth-balls for the duration -of the war.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“That means something for a man like -you. What induced you to do it?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“This.” Dimples stroked his khaki sleeve -with reverent, caressing fingers. “It’s -almost like the real thing, isn’t it? Not -quite, but near enough. It’s as near as I -can ever get, and I sha’n’t do anything to -disgrace it. I can shut my eyes and -imagine it <i>is</i> the real thing. I don’t suppose -you understand in the least what I’m -driving at—”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I think I understand thoroughly, sir. -But don’t believe for a moment there is -anything counterfeit, anything bullet-proof, -about what you have on. You will be -fighting, Dalrymple, just the same as the -other boys; every service you perform, -every word of cheer, every deed of kindness, -will be a bomb dropped back of the -German lines. Why, man, do you know -that the work of the Y. M. C. A. adds -ten per cent. to our fighting force? It’s -a fact; Pershing says so. If you make -good, you’ll be adding one man to every -ten you meet.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“‘One man to every ten!’” Dimples -breathed. “That’s great! That’s more -than I could have done the other way. I’m -good for something, after all.”</p> - -<hr class='c013' /> - -<p class='c012'>It seemed impossible that a wealthy, -prominent young New York club-man could -so quickly, so utterly drop out of sight as -did Dimples Dalrymple. One day he was -in his familiar haunts, a rotund, mirth-provoking -spectacle in his bulging uniform, -with his tiny overseas cap set above his -round, red face like the calyx of a huge ripe -berry; the next day he was gone, and for -several months thereafter his world knew -him not.</p> - -<div id='i_49' class='figcenter id003'> -<img src='images/049.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>A ROTUND, MIRTH-PROVOKING SPECTACLE IN HIS BULGING UNIFORM, WITH HIS TINY OVERSEAS CAP SET ABOVE HIS ROUND, RED FACE LIKE THE CALYX OF A HUGE RIPE BERRY</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='IV' class='c005'>CHAPTER IV<br /> <br /><i>Hill Two Eighty-five</i></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_0_6 c011'>Captain Shipp, now attached to a -famous division awaiting embarkation, -was the first to hear from him. He -read Dimples’s letter twice before passing it -on. It ran as follows:</p> - -<p class='c014'><span class='sc'>Dear Brigadier-General</span>,—You must be all of -the above by this time; if not, there is favoritism -somewhere and you ought to complain about it. -Probably you’re wondering where I am. Well, -that’s your privilege, Brig. I’m in a two-by-four -village with a name as long as the Frisco System, and -you’ll instantly recognize it when I tell you it has -one white street and a million rats. There are no -houses whatever. Further information might give -aid and comfort to the enemy.</p> - -<p class='c014'>I’ve written lots of letters back home, but this is -the first one of my own that I’ve had time for. -I’m in the game, Brig, and I haven’t fumbled the -ball. I live in a little tin shanty with a sand-bag -roof, and I wear a little tin hat that holds just enough -warm water to shave with. It held more—until -lately; now there’s a hole in it that I wouldn’t trade -for the Hudson “tube.” I was starting out with -two cans of hot cocoa when the street was shelled. -I spilled the boys’ cocoa and got a dent in my own, -but those Bessemer derbies are certainly handy -shock-absorbers. I woke up with my head in -Dr. Peters’s lap.</p> - -<p class='c014'>Right here I must make you acquainted with Pete. -He’s a hundred-pound hymn-weevil, and the best -all-round reverend that ever snatched a brand from -the burning. He dragged me in under cover all -alone, and he used no hooks. Pretty good for a -guy his size, eh?</p> - -<p class='c014'>Pete and I are partners in crime—and, say, the -stuff we pull in this hut! Movies, theatricals, concerts, -boxing-bees—with the half-portion reverend -in every scrimmage. He’s a Syncopated Baptist, -or an Episcopalian Elk, or something; anyhow, -he’s nine parts human and one part divine. That’s -the way the Y is wearing them over here. He’s got -the pep, and the boys swear by him. When the -war is over he hopes to get a little church somewhere, -and I’m going to see that he does, if I have to buy it, -for I want to hear him preach. I never have heard -him, but I’ll bet he’s a bear. Take it from me, -he’ll need a modest cathedral with about six acres -of parking-space inside and a nail in the door for -the S. R. O. sign.</p> - -<p class='c014'>We have a piano, and games, and writing-materials, -and a stock of candy and tobacco and -chocolate and stuff like that. I haven’t tasted a -single chocolate. Fact! But it has made an old -man of me. Gee! I’d give that loft building on -Sixteenth Street to be alone with an order of corn-starch -pudding. However, barring the fact that I -haven’t lost an ounce in weight, I’m having a grand -time, for there’s always something to do. Details -are constantly passing through, to and from the -front-line trenches, which (whisper) are so close that -we can smell the Germans. That’s the reason we -wear nose-bags full of chloride of lime or something. -Pete and I spend our days making millions of gallons -of tea and coffee and cocoa, and selling canned -goods, and sewing on buttons, and cracking jokes, -and playing the piano, and lugging stretchers, and -making doughnuts, and getting the boys to write -home to mother, and various little odd jobs; then, -at night, we take supplies up to the lads in the front -row of the orchestra. That’s a pretty game, by -the way, for a man of my size. Nobody ever undertakes -to pass me in a trench; I lie down and let them -climb over. It keeps the boys good-natured, and -that’s part of my job. “Hill Two Eighty-five”—that’s -what they call me.</p> - -<p class='c014'>We had a caller to-day. One of the Krupp family -dropped in on us and jazzed up the whole premises. -There is Bull Durham and rice-papers and chocolate -and raspberry jam all over this village, and one -corner of our hut has gone away from here entirely. -We haven’t found the stove, either, although Pete -retrieved the damper, and the rest of it is probably -somewhere near by.</p> - -<p class='c014'>Of course I had nothing hot for the boys when -I went up to-night. It was raining, too, and cold. -But they didn’t mind. They don’t mind anything—they’re -wonderful that way. We all had a good -laugh over it, and they pretended they were glad it -was the stove and not I that got strafed. I really -believe they like me. Anyhow, they made me think -they do, and I was so pleased I couldn’t resist -sitting down and writing you. Altogether, it was -a great day and a perfect evening.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r c015'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Yours till the last “down,”</div> - <div class='line'> <span class='sc'>Dimples</span>.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='V' class='c005'>CHAPTER V<br /> <br /><i>Dimples Takes Part in a Ceremony</i></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_0_6 c011'>During the first few weeks after his -arrival in France Captain Shipp had -no time whatever for affairs of his own, but -a day came finally when he took a train for -a certain base close up behind an American -sector, intending there to more definitely -locate Dimples’s whereabouts and to walk -in upon him unannounced. It would be a -memorable reunion; he could hear now the -big fellow’s shout of welcome. That genial -behemoth would have a tale to unfold, and -they would talk steadily until Shipp’s leave -was up.</p> - -<p class='c012'>But bad news was waiting at the base—news -that sent the captain hurrying from -first one hospital to another.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Dalrymple? Oh yes, he’s here,” an -orderly informed the distracted visitor.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Is he— May I see him?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>A small, hollow-eyed man with a red -triangle upon his sleeve rose from a chair -and approached to inquire:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Are you, by any chance, Captain -Shipp?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I am.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Dimples has often spoken of you. He -has been expecting you for weeks. I’m -just going in.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“You are Doctor Peters—Pete?” The -Y secretary nodded. “What ails him? I -heard he was wounded—”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Yes. His leg. It’s very serious. I -come every day.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>The speaker led the way, and Shipp followed -down a long hall redolent of sickly -drug smells, past clean white operating-rooms -peopled with silent-moving figures, -past doors through which the captain -glimpsed dwindling rows of beds and occasional -sights that caused his face to set. -In that hushed half-whisper assumed by -hospital visitors, he inquired:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“How did it happen?”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“There was a raid—a heavy barrage and -considerable gas—and it caught him while -he was up with supplies for the men. He -began helping the wounded out, of course. -It was a nasty affair—our men were new, -you see, and it was pretty trying for green -troops. They said, later, that he helped -to steady them quite as much as did their -officers.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“I can believe that. He’s a man to tie -to.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Yes, yes. We all felt that, the very -first day he came. Why, he was an inspiration -to the men! He was mother, -brother, pal, servant to the best and to the -worst of them. Always laughing, singing—There! -Listen!”</p> - -<p class='c012'>The Reverend Doctor Peters paused -inside the entrance to a ward, and Shipp -heard a familiar voice raised in quavering -song:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“By the star-shell’s light,</div> - <div class='line in1'>I see you; I see you.</div> - <div class='line in1'>If you want to see your father in the Fatherland,</div> - <div class='line in1'>Keep your head down, Fritzie boy.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“Why”—Shipp uttered a choking cry—“he’s -out of his head!”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Oh yes; he has been that way ever -since they amputated.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“‘Amp—’ Good God!” Shipp groped -blindly for support; briefly he covered his -eyes. Then, like a man in a trance, he -followed down the aisle until he stood, -white-lipped and trembling, at the foot of -Dalrymple’s bed.</p> - -<p class='c012'>It was difficult to recognize Dimples in -this pallid, shrunken person with the dark, -roving eyes and babbling tongue. The -voice alone was unchanged; it was husky, -faint as if from long, long use, but it was -brave and confident; it ran on ceaselessly:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Keep your nerve up, pal; you’re standing -it like a hero, and we’ll have you out to -the road in no time. Smokes! I tell you -they must have smokes if you have to -bring ’em in on your back—Gangway -for the soup-man! Come and get it, boys. -Hot soup—like mother used to make. Put -on the Harry Lauder record again. Now -then, all together:</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>“I love a lassie, a bonnie, blue-eyed lassie.”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>The little minister had laid a cool hand -upon Dimples’s burning brow; his head was -bowed; his lips were moving.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“When did you write to your mother -last?” the sick man babbled on. “Sure -I’ll post it for you, and I’ll add a line of my -own to comfort her—Water! Can’t you -understand? He wants water, and mine’s -gone. Too fat to fight! But I’ll make -good; I’ll serve. Give me a chance—Steady, -boys! They’re coming. They’re -at the wire. Now give ’em hell! We’ll -say it together, old man: ‘Our Father which -art in heaven, hallowed be thy name—’”</p> - -<p class='c012'>There were scalding tears in Shipp’s -eyes; his throat was aching terribly when -Doctor Peters finally led him out of the -ward. The last sound he heard was Dalrymple’s -voice quavering:</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>“Over there! Over there!</div> - <div>And we won’t come back till it’s over, over there.”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“I had my hands full at the hut, for the -wounded were coming in,” Doctor Peters -was saying, “but every one says Dimples -did a man’s work up there in the mud and -the darkness. Some of the fellows confessed -that they couldn’t have hung on, -cut off as they were, only for him. But they -did. It was late the next day before we -picked him up. He was right out in the -open; he’d been on his way back with a -man over his shoulders. He was very -strong, you know, and most of the stretcher-bearers -had been shot down. The wounded -man was dying, so Dimples walked into the -barrage.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“And he was afraid he wouldn’t make -good!” Shipp muttered, with a crooked, -mirthless smile.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Yes—imagine it! There was never a -day that he didn’t make me ashamed of -myself, never a day that he didn’t do two -men’s work. No task was too hard, too -disagreeable, too lowly. And always a -smile, a word of cheer, of hope. Our -Master washed people’s feet and cooked a -breakfast for hungry fishermen. Well, the -spirit of Christ lives again in that boy.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Shipp’s leave had several days to run; -such time as he did not spend with Doctor -Peters he put in at Dimples’s bedside. He -was there when the delirium broke; his -face was the first that Dimples recognized; -his hand was the first that Dimples’s groping -fingers weakly closed upon.</p> - -<p class='c012'>They had little to say to each other; they -merely murmured a few words and smiled; -and while Dimples feasted his eyes upon -the brown face over him, Shipp held his -limp, wasted hand tight and stroked it, -and vowed profanely that the sick man -was looking very fit.</p> - -<p class='c012'>Later in the day the captain said, with -something like gruffness in his voice:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Lucky thing you pulled yourself together, -old man, for you’re booked to take -part in a ceremony to-morrow. A famous -French general is going to kiss you on both -cheeks and pin a doodad of some sort on -your nightie.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dimples was amazed.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Me? Why, the idea!”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Sure!” Shipp nodded vigorously. “Ridiculous, -isn’t it? And think of me standing -at attention while he does it. Pretty soft -for you Y fellows. Here you are going home -with a decoration before I’ve even smelled -powder.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Oh, I’m not going home,” the other -declared. “Not yet, anyhow. A one-legged -man can sell cigarettes and sew on -buttons and make doughnuts just as well -as a centipede.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>A smiling nurse paused at the bed to -say:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“You’re awfully thin, Mr. Dalrymple, -but we’ll soon have you nice and fat again. -The doctor says you’re to have the most -nourishing food—anything you want, in -fact.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“‘<i>Anything?</i>’”</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Anything within reason.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Dimples grinned wistfully, yet happily.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Gee!” said he. “I’d like some cornstarch -pudding.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div><span class='small'>THE END</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Transcriber’s note:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c016'>Cover, full stop inserted after ‘D,’ “T. D. SKIDMORE”</p> - -<p class='c016'>Page 23, ‘pi’ changed to ‘pin,’ “striving to pin the man’s hateful”</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Too Fat to Fight, by Rex Beach - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOO FAT TO FIGHT *** - -***** This file should be named 50735-h.htm or 50735-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/7/3/50735/ - -Produced by Shaun Pinder 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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. 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