Part 26 (2/2)

She saw as she left the stairway and crossed the entrance hall that he wore his arm in a sling. She thought instantly of the unknown American in Lyse Hospital who had lost his forearm. Then--

”Tom Cameron!” she cried, and sprang to his side.

The soldier awoke with a start. He looked up at her and grinned.

”Hullo, Ruthie,” he observed. ”Excuse this early call, but I might not have another rest day for a long time. We're going into the trenches-going to take over a sector of the French line, they say, before long. So--

”Hullo! What's happened?”

”Your arm, Tom! You are wounded?” she gasped.

”Oh, shucks! Got a splinter of sh.e.l.l in it. Nothing much. Keeping it in splints so it will mend quicker,” he said.

”But your letter, Tom!” she cried, and there, in the early morning, standing upon the hospital steps, she told him the story of the happening that had so disturbed and troubled her.

”Don't that beat all!” exclaimed Tom. ”I wondered what had happened to that letter that I had just finished when I was called on duty. It was Sam Hines who had his arm torn off-poor fellow. We heard from him. He's getting on all right, but, of course, he'll have to go home.

”He must have picked up my letter, maybe to give it to me, knowing I had forgotten it. Well, it's all right, Ruthie. I can tell you lots more than was in that letter-and you've got a lot to tell me.”

So they sat down, side by side, and related each to the other all their adventures, while the great guns on the battle line boomed a rumbling accompaniment to what was said.

THE END

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