she used to do
when he was little.

Skipper Ed, foreseeing this state of affairs, had removed his other
patients, who were now convalescing, to his own tent, where he gave them
strict instructions as to their conduct, and such casual attention as he
could. But for the most part he remained with Bobby. Indeed, during the
day and night of Bobby's delirium he scarcely left Bobby's side for an
instant. And more than once during this period of vigil and fear and
foreboding Skipper Ed fell upon his knees and poured out his soul to the
Great Master in an appeal for his young friend's life.

It was near sunrise on the second morning of his delirium that Bobby
suddenly ceased to speak and lay very quiet--so quiet that an awful
dread came into Skipper Ed's heart. He leaned over the still form and
with fearful apprehension listened for breathing that he could not hear,
and felt for heart beats that were too faint for his discovery.

And then again he fell upon his knees, for he was a God-fearing man and
he had the love of God in his heart, and he prayed that if it were not
too late God in His goodness would again place the breath of life into
Bobby and return him to them. He prayed aloud, and as he prayed the
tears ran down his weather-beaten cheeks.

At last he rose. Bobby's face had assumed an unnatural, peaceful repose.
The color had left the cheeks that had been fever flushed for so long.
The lips were partly open, and there was no movement or sign of life.

Skipper Ed staggered to the tent front, and thrusting the flaps aside
staggered out. The world lay quiet and serene, as though it held no
grief. The waves lapped gently against the rocks. The sky was afire with
radiant beauty.

For a long while Skipper Ed stood there, his face drawn and haggard,
his tall form bent, uncertain which way to turn or what to do. Presently
the fire faded from the sky, a breeze sent a ripple over the calm
waters, and the big sun rose out of the sea, as though to ask him why he
mourned. And then he whispered, "Thy will be done. If it is Thy will to
take him from us, oh God, give us the strength and courage to accept our
bereavement like men."

Then it was that a new, strange peace came upon Skipper Ed, and he
reentered the tent, to stoop again over Bobby's couch, and as he did so
his heart gave a bound of joy, and a lump came into his throat. Bobby
was breathing--ever so softly--but breathing.

With the passing minutes the steady, regular