tch my chow (food) after this," insisted Green.

For twenty minutes Hal read on, paying no attention to the chatter of
soldiers about him. Then a bugle blew, and Hal closed his book with a
snap.

"That's sick call, Kelly, and I believe you're on sick report,"
announced the boyish sergeant.

"I'm not going," returned Kelly. "What's the use. The hospital steward,
I've been finding out, has no medicines whatever but salts and quinine.
I can't stand the taste of either."

"But you're going to sick call, just the same," Hal retorted dryly.
"Your name is on sick report, so to hospital you go. There's no way out
of it."

Sick call is sounded morning and afternoon. It is the first sergeant's
duty to enter on sick report the names of all enlisted men who report to
him that they are not well, or think they are not well. Then, when sick
call sounds, the first sergeant marches to hospital with the men whose
names he has entered on sick report.

"Fall in, Kelly," ordered the young sergeant.

"I'll not take salts or quinine," insisted Kelly.

"You'll march to sick call, just the same. Fall in!"

So in step, and briskly, Hal and Private Kelly marched over to the
little building which, at Fort Benjamin Franklin, was dignified with the
name of hospital. The acting hospital steward was there waiting for
them.

As this small command did not have a commissioned medical officer the
steward attended to all cases of minor illness. When occasion warranted
it the German physician was summoned from Bantoc to prescribe for the
men.

"The sick list, steward," reported Hal, handing over the official paper
on which Kelly's name alone appeared.

"What ails you, Kelly?" asked the steward.

"Nothing," Kelly answered defiantly.

"Then you'll have to discover an ailment soon," frowned the steward, "or
I'll ask Sergeant Overton to report you for shamming sick report."

"Why, truth to tell, I didn't feel very well," asserted Kelly. "But
that was two hours ago. I'm feeling fine now."

"Let me see your tongue," ordered the steward. He also "took" Kelly's
pulse and noted his respirations, entering all this information on his
record.

"Any pain anywhere, Kelly?"

"Sorra the bit," promptly rejoined the soldier.

"You're just a little off-key," went on the hospital steward, with a
professional air. "Not much; still, you'd better have some medicine."

"I can't take salts," protested Kelly. "They make me sea-sick. Give me
salts, and ye'l