He chatted and laughed pleasantly as he made his preparations, and still smiling exposed the wound and probed for the bullet. Owen found it an ordeal, but bore it manfully. He clenched his teeth firmly, and smiled back at the surgeon whenever the latter looked at him. And finally, when the bullet was extracted, he fell back on his pillow thoroughly exhausted. "Just a little troublesome to get hold of, I admit," said the surgeon, "but you will thank me later. There was a piece of cloth too, carried in by the bullet, and that alone would certainly have delayed healing. Now, with a healthy, powerful young fellow, such as you are, the wound will close so quickly that you will be surprised." He gave Owen a restorative, and dressed the wound, and at the end of the week our hero was on deck, lounging in a chair, his leg and thigh elevated, and a company of admiring civilians and soldiers about him. "I'd rather have the task of shooting another rhino any day," he admitted, "than have a bullet probed for. It's worse than being wounded." "As many a soldier has found before," exclaimed one of the passengers, Major Alexander by name. "I have been hit half a dozen times, and I know a little about it. But it's a fine training, Jones--a good beginning. Now you can say, when you land, that you have indeed smelt powder and met with a bullet. But seriously, I feel that, as the senior officer aboard, it will be my duty to make a report of all that has occurred, and of your behaviour, your gallant behaviour, Mr. Jones. I consider that the way in which you brought off the party was skilful, and displayed sagacity and courage. Not a word! I say it, and I mean it thoroughly. These gentlemen here approve of my words." "Hear, hear! A regular young fire-eater. He will make a good soldier," exclaimed the passenger who had once before interfered on the eve of the fight. "Jones has pluck, Major, and he deserves some commendation from those into whose command he is going." "He will have it," was the answer. "I will make it my business to report, as I have already said, and if Jones will allow me I will see to his comfort when we get ashore. No! Again, not a word, my lad. I am an old soldier, and you have a few years' service. We are of the same cloth, and if we cannot help one another, why----" "Bravo, Major! There is nothing like being clannish. Besides, he'll want help. The surgeon says he will not have the full use of his leg for a month at least, and in a fortnight or less we should be at Calcutta." Owen was not allowed even to whisper his thanks, for his gallant conduct had won him friends throughout the vessel. Jack had not been slow to tell of his pluck, of his strange determination and skill, while Mulha, now a person of some importance, made the lower deck and fo'castle ring with his name. Jones, late corporal of the 64th, was a hero aboard the Indiaman.