life, but that he did not wish to lose it
before he had fulfilled his mission.

"For better protection the lad dropped on hands and toes and ran along
like a dog, thus far untouched by bullets, though they were thick as a
nest of liberated bumble bees about his head.

"'The worst is about over now and I shall soon be in the trenches,'
he told himself encouragingly. He already could see the tops of the
helmets of the soldiers in the trenches.

"A shell exploded close by at this juncture and a shell splinter
struck him in the leg, leaving a wound. Rene rolled over on his back
and grabbed the leg with both hands, then, with his first-aid bandage,
bound the leg tightly above the wound so that he might not bleed to
death. He was already much weakened from loss of blood.

"Having done all he could for himself, Rene started off again,
dragging himself along with great effort, determined to reach the
trench and deliver his orders, which he finally succeeded in doing.

"'You have been wounded. You shall not go on,' declared the commander
after reading the orders and understanding fully what was still before
the brave lad. 'You should go back to the hospital. I will send a man
on to deliver the other orders.'

"'Monsieur le Capitaine, I have been ordered to this duty. I must go
on until I have fully obeyed my orders. Time enough for others to
carry them after I am killed. But I shall not be--not until the orders
are in the hands of the commanders in the trenches on this sector.'

"'You cannot walk; you have lost much blood,' protested the captain.

"'It matters not, sir; I can creep. That once was the only way I knew
how to walk.'

"'Then go, my brave lad, and God be with you.'

"Rene saluted formally, though the effort of raising his hand sent
shooting pains all through his body. He climbed laboriously from the
trench and emerged into the bullet-swept plain once more. It was with
a great effort that he even dragged himself along. He felt himself
growing weaker with the moments. Every few yards he was compelled to
lie over on his back for rest and to gain fresh strength for the next
spurt. It required the most heroic courage for one in Rene's condition
to go on. But he grimly stuck to it, creeping wearily along.

"The end of the journey was now in sight, though the way still seemed
long. No longer able to creep, the little messenger began to roll. It
was slow progress and he suffered agonies, but every roll brought hi