Part 26 (2/2)

”Why, it's one of our fellows!” said Bart, as he saw the American uniform.

”Been out on scout duty, I suppose,” remarked Billy.

Frank said nothing. His keen eyes noted the newcomer and his heart began to thump strangely.

As the soldier came nearer he took off his hat and waved it at them.

A yell of delight broke from the startled group.

”It's Tom! It's Tom! It's Tom!”

CHAPTER XXII

A JOYOUS REUNION

Shouting like so many maniacs, they rushed toward him. At the same instant Tom, too, began to run, and in a moment they had their arms around him, and were hugging him, pounding him, mauling him, exclaiming, questioning, laughing, rejoicing, all in one breath.

Tom was back with them again, good old Tom, their chum, their comrade, Tom, over whose fate they had spent so many sleepless hours, Tom, for whom any one of them would have risked his life, Tom who they knew was captured, and who they feared might be dead.

There he was, the same old Tom, with face and body thin, with hair unkempt and matted, with traces showing everywhere of the anxiety and suffering he had undergone, and yet with the same indomitable spirit that neither captivity nor threatened death had broken, and the same smile upon his lips and twinkle in his eyes.

”Easy, easy there, fellows,” he protested laughing. ”Let me come up for air. And before anything else, lead me to some grub. I haven't eaten for so long that there's only a vacuum where my stomach ought to be.”

”You bet we'll lead you to it,” cried Bart.

”An anaconda will have nothing on you when we get through filling you up,” promised Billy.

”What did I tell you, fellows,” cried Frank delightedly. ”Didn't I say the old boy'd be coming in some morning and asking us if breakfast was ready?”

Tom was giving Frank the long-lost letter he had been carrying when Corporal Wilson came up with the relief and their greeting was almost as boisterous and hilarious as that of his own particular chums had been, for Tom was a universal favorite in the regiment, and they had all mourned his loss.

They would have overwhelmed him with questions, but Frank interposed.

”Nothing doing, fellows,” he said. ”This boy isn't going to say another word until we've taken him to mess and filled him up till he can't move. After that there'll be plenty of time for a talk and we'll keep him talking till the cows come home.”

It was a rejoicing crowd that took Tom back to the main body of the regiment, where he almost had his hands wrung from him. They piled his plate and filled his coffee cup again and again and watched him while he ate like a famished wolf.

”Tom's running true to form,” joked Frank, as they saw the food vanish before his onslaught.

”Whatever else the Huns took away from him, they left him his appet.i.te,” chuckled Billy.

”Left it?” grinned Tom, as he attacked another helping. ”They added to it. I never knew what hunger was before. Bring on anything you've got, and I'll tackle it. All except fish. I'm ashamed now to look a fish in the face.”

It was a long time before he had had enough. Then with a look of seraphic contentment on his face he sat back, loosened his belt a notch, and sighed with perfect happiness.

”Now fellows, fire away,” he grinned, ”and I'll tell you the sad story of my life.”

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