"I've went through worse than this. I ain't hurted bad. I ain't got mine
just yet, old scout! Would I leave meself croak--an' that bum, Mike the
Kike, handin' me fren's the ha-ha! Gawd," he muttered hazily, as though
his mind was beginning to cloud, "just f'r that I'll get up an'--an'
go--home--" His voice flattened out and he lay silent.

Working over the next man beyond him and glancing around now and then to
discover a _brancardier_ who might take Duck to the rear, I presently
caught his eyes fixed on me.

"Say, Doc, will you talk--business?" he asked in a dull voice.

"Be quiet, Duck, the bearers will be here in a minute or two----"

"T'hell wit them guys! I'm askin' you will you make it fifty-fifty--'r'
somethin'--" Again his voice trailed away, but his bright ratty eyes were
indomitable.

I was bloodily occupied with another patient when something struck me on
the shoulder--a human hand, clutching it. Duck was sitting upright, eyes
a-glitter, the other hand pressed heavily over his abdomen.

"Fifty-fifty!" he cried in a shrill voice. "F'r Christ's sake, Doc, talk
business--" And life went out inside him--like the flame of a suddenly
snuffed candle--while he still sat there....

I heard the air escaping from his lungs before he toppled over.... I swear
to you it sounded like a whispered word--"business."

------------------

"Then came their gas--a great, thick, yellow billow of it pouring into our
shell hole.... I couldn't get my mask on fast enough ... and here I am,
Gray, wondering, but really knowing.... Are you stopping at the Club
tonight?"

"Yes."

Vail got to his feet unsteadily: "I'm feeling rather done in.... Won't sit
up any longer, I guess.... See you in the morning?"

"Yes," said Gray.

"Good-night, then. Look in on me if you leave before I'm up."

------------------

And that is how Gray saw him before he sailed--stopped at his door,
knocked, and, receiving no response, opened and looked in. After a few
moments' silence he understood that the "Seed of Death" had sprouted.

CHAPTER XIII

MULETEERS

Lying far to the southwest of the battle line, only when a strong
northwest wind blew could Sainte Lesse hear the thudding of cannon beyond
the horizon. And once, when the northeast wind had blown steadily for a
week, on the wings of the driving drizzle had come a faint but dreadful
odour which hung among the streets and