“No, that isn’t what I need. I want to look at you,” he reiterated. “I’ve got a wife and a little baby at home, and I love them. I like to be here because seeing you takes me back to them. This morning I knew I ought to sleep, but I just couldn’t go over the top tonight without seeing you again. That’s why I want to see you and fry a few doughnuts for you. It takes me back to them.” He finished with a far-away look in his eyes. He was not thinking what impression his words would make, his thoughts were with his wife and little baby. He worked around for a couple of hours, saying very little, but seeming quite content. Then he looked at his watch and said it was time to go, as it was quite a walk back to his company. Just so quietly he took his leave and went out to take his chance with Death. The two girls thought much about him that night as they went about their work, and later lay down and tried to sleep, and their prayers went up for the faithful soul who was doing his duty out there under fire, and for the anxious wife and little one who waited to know the outcome. Sleep did not come soon to their eyes, as they lay in the darkness and prayed. “The next day about noon as the girls were dipping doughnuts the chief doughnut dipper stumbled once more into the hut, tired, dirty, dusty and worn, but with his eyes sparkling: “Just thought I ought to come back and tell you I’m all right,” he said. “I was afraid you’d be worried. My wife and baby would, anyway.” The girls received him with exultant smiles. “You go out there under the trees and go to sleep!” they ordered him. “All right, I will,” he said. “I feel like sleeping now. Say, you don’t think I’m crazy, do you? I just had to see you! It took me back to them!”