ids, they are--no more. They
ain't meant to die. Oh, if I could only get at that there Kayser!"

Then, after a week of waiting, came Wally's letter.

*****

"Norah, Dear,--

"I don't know how to write to you. I can't bear to think about
you and your father. It seems it must be only a bad dream--and all
the time I know it isn't, even though I keep thinking I hear his
whistle--the one he used for me.

"I had better tell you about it.

"We had orders to attack early one morning. Jim was awfully keen; he
had everything ready, and he had been talking to the men until they
were all as bucked up as they could be. You know, he was often pretty
grave about his work, but I don't think I ever saw him look so happy
as he did that morning. He looked just like a kid. He told me he
felt as if he were going out on a good horse at Billabong. We were
looking over our revolvers, and he said, 'That's the only thing that
feels wrong; it ought to be a stock whip!'

"We hadn't much artillery support. Our guns were short of shells, as
usual. But we took the first trench, and the next. Jim was just
everywhere. He was always first; the men would have followed him down
a precipice. He was laughing all the time.

"We didn't get much time before they counter-attacked. They came on
in waves--as if there were millions of them, and we had a pretty stiff
fight in the trench. It was fairly well smashed about. I was pretty
busy about fifty yards away, but I saw Jim up on a broken traverse,
using his revolver just as calmly as if he were practising in camp,
and cheering on the men. He gave me a 'Coo-ee!'

"And then--oh, I don't know how to tell you. Just as I was looking at
him a shell burst near him: and when the smoke blew over there was
nothing--traverse and trench and all, it was just wiped out. I
couldn't get near him--the Boches were pouring over in fresh masses,
and we got the signal to retire--and I was the only one left to get
the men back.

"He couldn't have felt anything; that's the only thing.

"I wish it had been me. I'm nobody's dog, and he was just everything
to you two--and the best friend a fellow ever had. It would have been
so much more reasonable if it had been me. I just feel that I hate
myself for being alive. I would have saved him for you if I could,
Norah,
"Wally."

*****

There were letters, too, from Jim's Colonel, and from Ma