the gaping wound so that they could shift the torn body to the
stretcher.

"It's funny," he said as he worked, "that we don't run across the
doctors oftener out here. Of course they are all at work just as hard
as we are, and a good deal harder, poor fellows, but it does seem as
though every time we get hold of a case that is a good deal too hard
for us to tackle, why, then there isn't a soul in sight to help. I'm
so afraid of doing something that will make somebody heal wrong, or
limp or something."

"Be a good way to take revenge on somebody," said Velo.

"Why you--" Zaidos could not finish. "How the deuce do you _ever_
think up such stuff? For goodness' sake, don't say it to me! You make
me sick!" He bent over his patient again, and Velo looked idly about.

At his feet lay a revolver. He picked it up. It was loaded. Idly he
tried the trigger. It worked. He looked at Zaidos. How he hated him!
They seemed all alone on that field of dead and dying. The tide had
swept away and left them there with their work.

There was a sudden red mist over Velo's sight. . . . Kneeling in the
light of the big flashlight, Zaidos loomed up, a clear, clean cut
figure with the velvet blackness of the night behind him. Velo brushed
his hand before his eyes. Zaidos was putting the last pin in the neat
dressing he had applied to the wound. There was a thread of hope for
the man. Zaidos smiled. Velo knew he would get up--

The revolver sounded like a cannon. Zaidos, unhurt, got to his feet.
He pressed a hand to his side. Velo watched him with fascinated eyes.
Zaidos looked down. There was a cut across the service blouse between
his sleeve and body, right under his left arm.

Zaidos stared first at Velo, then at the revolver still in his hand.

"How did that happen?" he demanded in a low, tense voice.

Velo swallowed and cleared his throat.

"The thing went off," he said huskily.

"Well, it came near doing for me," said Zaidos, still staring
suspiciously at Velo. "You let me have that revolver! Yon are too
funny with things to suit me."

Velo, still pale, smiled a wry, twisted smile. "I'm sorry," he lied.
"I don't see how it happened. It must be out of order."

"Give it to me!" said Zaidos, "and take the front of this stretcher.
I've got to look out for accidents, it seems. I never saw anything so
careless in my life. You have just got to be careful, Velo! I won't
stand for it! This isn't the first