from us.     

       It took us two hours to get the Major back to our lines. The last part of the way we grew reckless and carried him overland. Our infantry saw us and came out with a stretcher to help. At the dressing-station the M. O. who attended to the wound broke the news abruptly, “He hasn’t an earthly.”     

       The Major’s eyes opened. He repeated the words, “Not an earthly.” And then, “Tell Heming he’s all right, and say—say I’m sorry I doubted.”     

       The Major went west one hour after that and we returned to the guns to report to Brigade what had happened. The report went in across the wire, but the Colonel at once sent for me to give him the details in person. When I had ended, he sat twisting his moustaches thoughtfully. Then,       “That fool painter,” he said, talking more to himself than to me, “I suppose he knew I thought he was afraid.” And then to me, “But he’s all white, Corporal, and it’s up to us to get him out. D’you think you could find the way back?”     

       I told him I could by following the wire which we had laid to that point.     

       When we again reached Kay Dump and Tom’s Cut, which was the main trench leading to the frontline, we found that the usual morning “hate”       was in progress. The wounded of the night before were being carried out; as the bearers, carrying the stretchers on their shoulders, reached the high ground, the Huns caught sight of them and started to mow them down with enfilade fire. Our guns opened up in retaliation; by the tine the strafe had died down the morning had become too clear for anyone to approach No Man’s Land without being observed. It was in the first dusk of evening that Heming came back. We were in the front-line waiting for him, when the Hun snipers opened up. We saw him come running in zig-zags through the rusty wire and shell-holes. When he jumped into the trench beside us, he was laughing. “I’ve had a simply ripping time, Corporal,” he commenced. Then, seeing the Colonel, he stood stiffly to attention and saluted.     

       “What doing?” the Colonel asked.     

       “Making landscapes,” said Heming, with a twinkle, “and letting daylight into Huns.”     

       So that was how our Captain proved that he had guts; he’s done       

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