Doctor Holiday nodded assent to that and asked if he thought the boy was doing well up there.

“Not a doubt of it,” said the Englishman heartily.  And he added a brief synopsis of the things that the colonel had said in regard to his youngest corporal.

“That is rather astonishing,” remarked Doctor Holiday.  “Obedience hasn’t ever been one of Ted’s strong points.  In fact he has been a rebel always.”

“Most boys are until they perceive that there is sense instead of tyranny in law.  Your nephew has had that knocked into him rather hard and he is all the better for it tough as it was in the process.  He is making good up there.  He will make good over seas.  He is a born leader—­a better leader of men than his brother would be though maybe Larry is finer stuff.  I don’t know.”

“They are very different but I like to think they are both rather fine stuff.  Maybe that is my partial view but I am a bit proud of them both, Ted as well as Larry.”

“You have every reason,” approved the captain heartily.  “I have seen a good many splendid lads in the last four years and these two measure up in a way which is an eye opener to me.  In my stupid insular prejudice maybe I had fallen to thinking that the particular quality that marks them both was a distinctly British affair.  Apparently you can breed it in America too.  I’m glad to see it and to own it.  And may I say one other thing, Doctor Holiday?  I have the D.S.C. and a lot of other junk like that but I’d surrender every bit of it this minute gladly if I thought that I would ever have a son that would worship me the way those lads of yours worship you.  It is an honor any man might well covet.”

CHAPTER XXXVII

ALAN MASSEY LOSES HIMSELF

While Ruth and Larry steered their storm tossed craft of love into smooth haven at last; while Ted came into his own in the Canadian training camp and Tony played Broadway to her heart’s content, the two Masseys down in Mexico drifted into a strange pact of friendship.

Had there been no other ministrations offered save those of creature comfort alone Dick would have had cause to be immensely grateful to Alan Massey.  To good food, good nursing and material comfort the young man reacted quickly for he was a healthy young animal and had no bad habits to militate against recovery.

But there was more than creature comfort in Alan’s service.  Without the latter’s presence loneliness, homesickness and heartache would have gnawed at the younger man retarding his physical gains.  With Alan Massey life even on a sick bed took on fascinating colors like a prism in sunlight.

For the sick lad’s delectation Alan spun long thrilling tales, many of them based on personal experience in his wide travels in many lands.  He was a magnificent raconteur and Dick propped up among his pillows drank it all in, listening like another Desdemona to strange moving accidents of fire and flood which his scribbling soul recognized as superb copy.