To cleave him to the teeth was but the work of a moment, and Ted Petres accomplished it before the follower of the Prophet had time to withdraw his spear! but, alas! poor Jack’s life was welling out of him faster than the sands run out of a broken hour-glass! It was no use to lift him up and look round for help; Jack Green had seen his last service, and Ted knew it. But he did his best for him in those last moments, and help came in the person of one of their officers, one D’Arcy de Bolingbroke who, though badly wounded in the arm himself, was yet able to lend a hand. "Petres, you’re a splendid fellow," he exclaimed. "I shall recommend you if we live to get out of this. You ought to get the Cross for this." "Thank you, sir," returned Ted gratefully. And then between them they managed to get the poor fellow to the doctors, who were hard at work behind a poor shelter of wagons and store-cases. But it was too late, for when they laid him down Jack Green was dead and at ease for ever. One of the hospital orderlies turned from a case at hand, and Ted uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of him. "Why, _Tom_!" he cried, starting up to take his hand, "I didn’t even know you were with us." There was no answering gleam of pleasure on Tom Boynton’s face; he stared at Ted, stared at the face of the dead man lying at their feet, then dropped upon his knees beside him. "Oh, Jack, Jack, speak to me," he cried imploringly. [Illustration: "Oh, Jack, Jack, speak to me," he cried imploringly.] "It’s too late, Tom," said Ted, bending down. "I did my best, but it was too late, old man. I did my best." Tom Boynton looked up in his old chum’s face. "You let him die?" he asked. "We were three to one," returned the other humbly. "You did your best, and you let him die," repeated Tom blankly. "And he was my chum," he added miserably. "Tom," cried Ted passionately, "I was your chum too." "_You!_" with infinite scorn; then bending down he kissed the dead face tenderly. Ted Petres turned away, blind with pain. He might have won the Cross, but he had lost his friend--the friend who had loved him less than that other chum of whom he had not the heart now to feel jealous. And that was how they met again--that was the end of Tom Petres’ boy’s love. Yum-Yum: A Pug CHAPTER I For a pug Yum-Yum was perfect, and let me tell you it takes a great many special sorts of beauty to give you a pug which in any way approaches perfection.