A hand slipped out of the darkness and caught her elbow. "This way, lady," and she was drawn along the protecting shelter of the ridge. After rods of stumbling she stumbled down irrational stairs into the same dugout she had left that morning. She was almost as surprised as the two surgeons. "You're a fool," muttered Griggs. "Wait till they order me back. I'll not be crying for purgatory twice." The chief smiled. "I reckon you got that S O S call I've been sending out all day. We need help like sixty. Bichloride's under that basin. We'll be ready for you when you've washed up. Night ahead--" His words trailed off into an incoherent chuckling. He was wondering how the girl had managed it. He was wondering more what the command would do when it found out. In the mean time he was glorying in her courage; he would see she got full measure of the work that had claimed her in spite of orders, while he silently thanked a merciful God for providing her. No one questioned her right to be there that night. Wounded poured in, flooded the dugout to capacity, were cared for, carried away, and more flooded again. It was daybreak before a lull came, and then there were orders to be ready to follow the battalion in an hour. So they ate a snatch, packed, and rolled on in the wake of the Allies' conquest. Again it was nightfall before they caught up with their regiment. Even to eyes as inexperienced as theirs it was easy to see it had been factored and factored again, and not the half of it was standing. They found a couple of regimental surgeons floundering through a sea of wounded. The nurse had to bite her lips to keep back the cry of horror over the apparent hopelessness of the task that lay before them. So many--and so few hands to do it all! A shout went up from the men who had come through whole, when they saw her. They were wet, covered with mud, aching in every joint and sinew, but they forgot it all in their joyful pride over the fact that the nurse was standing by. "Gosh durn it, it's our girl!" "Stuck fast to the old bat. Whoopee!" "At-a-boy! Three cheers for the pluckiest girl on the front--our girl!" and a young giant led the cheering that sprang as one yell from those husky throats. "She's all right--our girl's all right--'rah-'rah-'rah!" Sheila's own voice was too husky to more than whisper, as she slipped behind the giant, "Tell them my thanks and--good luck." "You bet I will." From that instant there was no more helplessness in the feelings of Sheila O'Leary. She felt empowered to move mountains, to make new a mangled heap of boys. As she joined the chief she stopped to see how it was with him. His eyes met hers, and in the flash she read there the same fighting faith that was in her own heart. He patted her shoulder. "Didn't think you'd funk. Nothing like team-work when you're up against it. Keeps you believing in the divinity of man, eh?"