I had hopped up and was holdin' the gate wide open, givin' Skid all the honors, and Mr. Robert was escortin' him out to the elevator, when I notices that this Popover party has got his eye on the boss and is standin' right where he's blockin' the way. "Hey, Poppy!" says I in a stage whisper. "Back out! Reverse yourself! Take a sneak!" But of all the muleheads! There he stands, grippin' his hat, and thinkin' only of that lost job. "All right," Skid is saying; "but remember now, no floral tributes, or gushy introductions, or sitting in the spotlight for me at this--er--er---- Well, as I'm a living mortal!" He gets this last out after a gasp or two, and then stops stock still, starin' straight in front of him. "What is it?" says Mr. Robert. "What's up?" And we sees that Skid Mallory has his eyes glued to this waiter shrimp. "In the name of all that's good," says he, "where did you come from?" You can't jar Popover, though, by any little thing like that. When he gets an idea in his dome it's a fixture there. "I would wish to speak," says he, "with Mr. Ellins." "Yes, yes, another time," says Mr. Robert hasty. "But see here!" says Skid, still gazin' steady. "Don't you remember me? Take a good look now." Popover gives him a glance and shakes his head. "Maybe I serve you at the club, Sir," says he. "Club be blowed!" says Skid. "The last time I saw you you were serving a machine gun, six miles east of Mustapha. Isn't that so?" "Oh, Mustapha!" says Popover, his eyes lightin' up a little. "On the hill just beyond where the bridge was blown up? You came at the night's end. Oh, yes!" "I knew it!" exclaims Skid. "I'd have bet a thousand--same curly hair, same shoulders, same eyes. Ellins, here's that lone hero I was telling you about. Here!" "But--hut that's only Mike," says Mr. Robert, gazin' from one to the other. "Used to be a waiter at the club, you know." "I don't care what he used to be," says Skid, "or what he is now, I want to shake hands with him." Popover he pinks up and acts foolish about swappin' grips; but Skid insists. "So you beat 'em out in the end, did you?" Skid goes on. "Just naturally put it all over that whole bunch of Turks, didn't you? But how did it happen?" "I don't know," says Popover, fingerin' his hat nervous. "I am very busy all the time, and--and I have nothing to eat all night. You see, all other Greek soldiers was hurt; and me, I must stay to keep the Turks from the hill. Very busy time, Sir. And I am not much for fight, anyway." "Great Scott!" says Skid. "He says he's not much for--but see here, how did it end?" Popover gives a shoulder shrug. "Once more they run at me after you go," says he, "and then come our brave Greek General with big army and chase Turks away. And the Captain say why am I such big fool as to stay behind. That is all I know. Three weeks ago I am discharged from being soldier. Now I come back here, and I have no more my good job. I am much sorry."