The Doctor stood on deck in his raincoat, his foot on the rail to keep his equilibrium, writing on his knee as the long string of men came up to him.  There were more than seventy in the line that morning, and some of them looked as if they ought to be in a drier place.  Rain beat down on the sea like lead bullets.  The old Anchises floundered from one grey ridge to another, quite alone.  Fog cut off the cheering sight of the sister ships.  The doctor had to leave his post from time to time, when seasickness got the better of his will.  Claude, at his elbow, was noting down names and temperatures.  In the middle of his work he told the sergeants to manage without him for a few minutes.  Down near the end of the line he had seen one of his own men misconducting himself, snivelling and crying like a baby,—­a fine husky boy of eighteen who had never given any trouble.  Claude made a dash for him and clapped him on the shoulder.

“If you can’t stop that, Bert Fuller, get where you won’t be seen.  I don’t want all these English stewards standing around to watch an American soldier cry.  I never heard of such a thing!”

“I can’t help it, Lieutenant,” the boy blubbered.  “I’ve kept it back just as long as I can.  I can’t hold in any longer!”

“What’s the matter with you?  Come over here and sit down on this box and tell me.”

Private Fuller willingly let himself be led, and dropped on the box.  “I’m so sick, Lieutenant!”

“I’ll see how sick you are.”  Claude stuck a thermometer into his mouth, and while he waited, sent the deck steward to bring a cup of tea.  “Just as I thought, Fuller.  You’ve not half a degree of fever.  You’re scared, and that’s all.  Now drink this tea.  I expect you didn’t eat any breakfast.”

“No, sir.  I can’t eat the awful stuff on this boat.”

“It is pretty bad.  Where are you from?”

“I’m from P-P-Pleasantville, up on the P-P-Platte,” the boy gulped, and his tears began to flow afresh.

“Well, now, what would they think of you, back there?  I suppose they got the band out and made a fuss over you when you went away, and thought they were sending off a fine soldier.  And I’ve always thought you’d be a first rate soldier.  I guess we’ll forget about this.  You feel better already, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.  This tastes awful good.  I’ve been so sick to my stomach, and last night I got pains in my chest.  All my crowd is sick, and you took big Tannhauser, I mean Corporal, away to the hospital.  It looks like we’re all going to die out here.”

“I know it’s a little gloomy.  But don’t you shame me before these English stewards.”

“I won’t do it again, sir,” he promised.

When the medical inspection was over, Claude took the Doctor down to see Fanning, who had been coughing and wheezing all night and hadn’t got out of his berth.  The examination was short.  The Doctor knew what was the matter before he put the stethoscope on him.  “It’s pneumonia, both lungs,” he said when they came out into the corridor.  “I have one case in the hospital that will die before morning.”