est, tears coursing down his face,
stepped back.

There was a brief command, a rattle of arms, another order, a pause, a
sharp word. Then came a snarling report of guns * * * and on the
ground before him lay a crumpled heap. Zaidos, sick to the soul,
obeyed the order to retire. He had fired in the air!

The day passed in a horrid daze. Two of the firing squad were so ill
and shaken that they could only lie on their cots with eyes hidden, and
moan. It was the first tragedy that had entered their simple lives.

The heart of Zaidos rebelled. He could have stood the rage and fear
and excitement of battle, but this unspeakable act in which he had
taken part seemed too much. As night approached he began to fear the
quiet hours of the dark. When he closed his eyes he could see that
white, blank face before him.

It was with a deep feeling of relief and gratitude then that he obeyed
the order to march to the wharves. There were forty men included in
the command, and they went off gaily, glad of anything as a change from
the barracks.

Three transports waited at the wharves. Zaidos obeyed an order to go
aboard the largest, a noble ship ready to put out. It was crowded with
men. Zaidos, with two others, boarded her. They were led down and
down into the depths of the ship, and with despair Zaidos discovered
that he was to be one of the assistant stokers.

The engine-rooms were stifling, notwithstanding the big electric fans
that supplied a change of air as it entered through the great air
intakes. The furnaces roared. A couple of engineers nodded to him and
one of them led him to a bunk where he exchanged his uniform for the
thin, scant garments suited to his new work. At once he returned to
his new duty. He found the shifts were short, but the work was so
heavy and the heat so intense that at the end of his first duty he went
to his stuffy bunk and threw himself down, more exhausted than he had
ever been in his life. He lost track of time down there in the
firelighted gloom, and the clock seemed to bring no understanding to
him.

At last night came, and he was sent to his bunk again to remain until
summoned. The engineer, who was like an officer in charge, was not a
hard man. He understood the necessity of breaking his boys in
gradually. Zaidos, too tired to sleep, lay in his bunk watching the
men about him and listening to their idle or boastful talk. His native
tongue had come back to his remembra