He watched eagerly when he was finally lined up on the wharf waiting for roll-call, for he was sure she would come; and she did, swinging down the line with her arms full of chocolate, handing out telegraph blanks and postal cards, real postal cards with a stamp on them that could be mailed anywhere. He gripped one in his big, rough hand as if it were a life preserver. A real, honest-to-goodness postal card! My it was good to see the old red and white stamp again! And he spoke impulsively: “You’re the girl that saved my life out there in the field, don’t you remember? With the lemonade!” Her face lit up. She had recognized him and somehow cleared one hand of chocolate and telegrams to grasp his with a hearty welcome: “I’m so glad you came through all right!” her cheery voice said. All right! _All right!_ Did she call it all right? He looked down at his one foot with a dubious frown. She was quick to see. She understood. “Oh, but that’s nothing!” she said, and somehow her voice put new heart into him. “Your folks will be so glad to have you home you’ll forget all about it. Come, aren’t you going to send them a telegram?” And she held out the yellow blank. But still he hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said, looking down at his foot again. “Mother’s gone, and——” Instantly her quick sympathy enveloped his sore soul, and he felt that just the inflection of her voice was like balm when she said: “I’m so sorry!” Then she added: “But isn’t there somebody else? I’m sure there was. I’m sure you told me about a girl I was to write to if you didn’t come through. Aren’t you going to let her know? Of course you are.” “I don’t know,” said the boy. “I don’t think I am. Maybe I’ll never go back now. You see, I’m not what I was when I went away.” “Nonsense!” said the lassie with that cheerful assurance that had carried her through shell fire and made her merit the pet name of “Sunshine” that the boys had given her in the trenches. “Why, that wouldn’t be fair to her. Of course, you’re going to let her know right away. Leave it to me. Here, give me her address!” Quick as a flash she had the address and was off to a telephone booth. This was no message that could wait to go back to headquarters. It must go at once. He saw her again before he left the wharf. She gave him a card with two addresses written on it: “This first is where you can drop in and rest when you are tired,” she explained. “It’s just one of our huts; the other is where you can find a good bed when you are in the city.” Then she was off with a smile down the line, giving out more telegraph blanks and scattering sunshine wherever she went. He glanced back as he left the pier and saw her still floating eagerly here and there like a little sister looking after more real brothers.