"After all, it is not much more than a scratch; it is lack of sleep and nourishment during the last few days," said the surgeon, handing Dick a piece of lead he had recently removed from the boy’s wound, "but I have recommended that you be sent back to Corinto, where you can receive proper attention on board ship." "But is the fighting all over?" asked Dick weakly. "Surest thing you know, my boy, for ’the marines have landed and have the situation well in hand,’ as the papers always say," answered the surgeon smiling. "Thanks for the Navy’s bringing us here," added Dick with a wan smile, and then he dropped off into a much needed peaceful sleep. Two days later as he lay on his white bunk in the sick bay of the U.S.S. _Buffalo_, steaming southward to Panama, and the wonderful hospital at Ancon, a letter was handed him. On opening it he found a document appointing him a corporal in the United States Marine Corps. Also enclosed was a very complimentary letter from the Commanding Officer of Marines ashore, thanking him for his excellent work during the exciting days of the campaign, and at the end he read with satisfaction that, owing to his information, a certain German and his accomplice had been arrested by the Government authorities and were on their way to the coast, where they were to be deported, and forbidden ever to return.