“Give him something hearty,--an egg on toast,” ordered the doctor, “and keep him quiet.” Then I knew I was in for “low diet” some more. “Lieutenant Nickerson wants to see you,” said the nurse. So I went to his cot. “What is it, Jot? Are you better?” “Head’s a little sore, but otherwise fit as a fiddle!” “Well, look out,” I said, “or the doctor will starve you.” Jot smiled, and then said, “I want to thank you for saving my life. You have always managed to stand between me and trouble from the first; and now you have got between me and death, Davie.” “Why,” I replied, “I didn’t even know it was you, until after I got here. I was in a hurry when I slung you over my shoulder. Your face was downward. So you needn’t thank me for it; but I am as thankful as you that I did it. I fixed that big Boche that was swinging his rifle for a club, though.” Then I told him about it. “You always were good and brave, Davie.” “There is where you are out, this time, Jot,” I said. “Don’t tell any one; but I was awful scared before we started for the Boche trench. I would have run away had I dared. I suppose courage is a cumulative thing, mine had to be given time to accumulate.” Jot lay back and laughed. “You needn’t laugh,” I said. “It is true as gospel, and I am ashamed to let you know, I was a dreadful coward; but it is true!” After feeding on thin soup and a single egg on toast for breakfast, for a week, I bribed the nurse to give me a beefsteak and some potatoes and, on that forbidden diet, grew so strong that I got my discharge from the hospital in a day or two. I am sincerely convinced that the most of my faintness was from underfeeding,--sheer hunger. But that theorist of a doctor would not believe it and thought his low diet and medicines had helped me to a rapid recovery. I was glad to get back to my company again, and to receive the rough but hearty congratulations of my comrades. “You still look pale,” said Sutherland. “Are you feeling all right now?” “Yes,” I replied. “You’d look as pale as I do if they had fed you on air. When’s mess?” I saw the boys grin, for I had the reputation of being a good feeder; but I was surely glad to get back to plain, hearty army rations again. So it was that I again took up my duties with a heartiness that, before going “over the top,” I had been a trifle lacking in. I learned that on counting noses three of our company were killed and seven wounded. We talked about that skirmish so much that the woman who owned the barn where we had our billet complained, because her cow couldn’t sleep. And after all the talk, there was not much of an understanding about the fight; for a soldier does not see much that is taking place in battle a great way from his nose. What we afterwards saw dwarfed this first call on the Boches; but a first experience leaves a deep impression. CHAPTER X IN REST BILLET After our first call on the Boches, we enjoyed the rest and recuperation of our billets.