"No, my boy. The medal was won some time later, while your two uncles were in the hospital trying to recover from their wounds. We made two advances, and then were told to hold our new line. There was a fierce bombardment early in the morning, and then, because of a mix-up of orders, part of our command fell back while another tried to go forward. One of our men, a fellow named Lorimer Spell, a queer sort of chap who hailed from Texas, was hit by a piece of shell and knocked partly unconscious. He was unable to save himself, and as I didn't want to see him killed I ran out from behind our shelter and brought him in." CHAPTER XVI DICK ROVER'S HEROISM It can readily be believed that the Rovers did not sleep much that night. The boys and girls were downstairs by seven o'clock and waited anxiously for the appearance of their parents in the dining-room of Dick Rover's residence, where the fathers were to have breakfast before returning to the troopship which was docked across the river, at Hoboken. "We've got to get back by noon," announced Tom Rover, "and Sam and I want to pay a visit to Wall Street before we go, so we won't be able to spend much more time here." "You were going to tell us how you won that medal, Dad," said Jack, after breakfast was over and his two uncles had said good-bye to everybody and left. "What about it?" "Well, if you must have the story, sit down and I'll give it to you," answered Dick Rover, with a smile. "As it happens, the death of Lorimer Spell may make quite a difference in my plans for this Summer." "Oh, then the poor man died in spite of your efforts to rescue him!" said Martha in crestfallen tones. "He didn't die from that shell wound," answered her father. "But I had better tell the story from the beginning, since you seem to be so anxious to hear it." "You must remember, Dick, that Jack is something of a soldier himself. He is a captain of the cadets, you know," remarked the mother of the lad. "Oh, but that isn't like being a real soldier and fighting for Uncle Sam!" protested the youth. "This Lorimer Spell, the fellow I saved, was a tall, lanky Texan who joined our command after we arrived in France. Just how he got in I can't say. He was rather a quiet sort of man, and some of the soldiers thought he was decidedly queer. He took a great interest in botany and geology, and I take it he was something of a student in those lines, although he was by no means well educated. "The day that he was knocked out by a fragment of a shell was a misty one--the kind of a mist that makes it very uncertain to see any great distance. We did not know how close some of the Huns might be, and as a matter of fact they were closer than we expected, and some time later two of our men were shot down while moving from one trench to another close by.