now how you found it out," Blythe said. "It was when I went up on
the windmill, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was," said Roy. "You were in your bare feet."

There was another pause. Blythe seemed meditating. The boys were
uncomfortable. Nurses came and went. One took the victim's temperature.
He watched her as she went away. Finally he spoke.

CHAPTER XXXI

HARK, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES!

He spoke as if it were the most commonplace matter that he was telling,
"I told them that my brother tried to kill me and they don't believe
it."

Roy looked at Warde, dumbfounded.

"They don't believe anything," Blythe said, weakly.

"We believe you; tell us about it?" Warde said. "Did your brother kill
someone?"

"No, but he tried to kill me. Didn't I tell you?"

"No, you never told us," Warde said, gently. "Tell us now."

"It was at Camp Merritt."

"What do you mean? When?"

Blythe closed his eyes and lay for a few moments, silent. It seemed as
if he slept. The boys looked at each other, puzzled. The invalid opened
his eyes and smiled.

"Did you pick up all the sticks?" he asked.

"Yes, we did," Warde said. "Tell us about your brother; we're all
friends."

"Friends and comrades," Blythe said faintly.

"That's it, you said it," Roy assured him.

"He tried to kill me," Blythe said.

"Why did he try to do that--Blythey?" Roy asked. "We're your friends;
tell us all about it. You remember better than you used to?"

"I thought I told you," the invalid said simply. "They're going to take
me to Canada next week. I've got to be tried for something. They think I
only dreamed that my brother tried to kill me. I would rather stay here
with you. Can't you tell them, so I can stay here? I want to stay. We
were all like a kind of a family--telling yarns. You know me. They have
a conspiracy here. You know all about me, you tell them. If you ask them
to give me back the--the--locket, they will. It has her picture?"

"Whose picture--Blythey?"

"My mother's, _you_ know. You know how I went up and got it. You're
my friends and I'm yours--"

"Yes, you are," Roy said, his eyes glistening.

The invalid closed his eyes and lay as if asleep. The two scouts waited,
but the eyes did not reopen. So they arose quietly and left the ward.
They had been told they could not stay long. They were deeply affected
and bewildered. Blythe was different, but _how_ different they
could not say. He just seemed different. He had spoken with