The Reverend Dr. Skinner pulled out his gold watch and looked at it frowning. “Oh, my, I shall miss the train,” he muttered. The “Y” man helped him into his voluminous trench coat and they both hurried out of the door. “Those are some puttees he had on, I'll tell you,” said the legless man who was propped in a chair near the stove. Andrews sat down beside him, laughing. He was a man with high cheekbones and powerful jaws to whose face the pale brown eyes and delicately pencilled lips gave a look of great gentleness. Andrews did not look at his body. “Somebody said he was a Red Cross man giving out cigarettes.... Fooled us that time,” said Andrews. “Have a butt? I've got one,” said the legless man. With a large shrunken hand that was the transparent color of alabaster he held out a box of cigarettes. “Thanks.” When Andrews struck a match he had to lean over the legless man to light his cigarette for him. He could not help glancing down the man's tunic at the drab trousers that hung limply from the chair. A cold shudder went through him; he was thinking of the zigzag scars on his own thighs. “Did you get it in the legs, too, Buddy?” asked the legless man, quietly. “Yes, but I had luck.... How long have you been here?” “Since Christ was a corporal. Oh, I doan know. I've been here since two weeks after my outfit first went into the lines.... That was on November 16th, 1917.... Didn't see much of the war, did I?... Still, I guess I didn't miss much.” “No.... But you've seen enough of the army.” “That's true.... I guess I wouldn't mind the war if it wasn't for the army.” “They'll be sending you home soon, won't they?” “Guess so.... Where are you from?” “New York,” said Andrews. “I'm from Cranston, Wisconsin. D'you know that country? It's a great country for lakes. You can canoe for days an' days without a portage. We have a camp on Big Loon Lake. We used to have some wonderful times there... lived like wild men. I went for a trip for three weeks once without seeing a house. Ever done much canoeing?” “Not so much as I'd like to.” “That's the thing to make you feel fit. First thing you do when you shake out of your blankets is jump in an' have a swim. Gee, it's great to swim when the morning mist is still on the water an' the sun just strikes the tops of the birch trees. Ever smelt bacon cooking? I mean out in the woods, in a frying pan over some sticks of pine and beech wood.... Some great old smell, isn't it?... And after you've paddled all day, an' feel tired and sunburned right to the palms of your feet, to sit around the fire with some trout roastin' in the ashes and hear the sizzlin' the bacon makes in the pan.... O boy!” He stretched his arms wide. “God, I'd like to have wrung that damn little parson's neck,” said Andrews suddenly. “Would you?” The legless man turned brown eyes on Andrews with a smile. “I guess he's about as much to blame as anybody is... guys like him.... I guess they have that kind in Germany, too.”