Dick Rover. "My! but that was something pretty nasty! I felt as if
somebody had me by the throat and at the same time was trying to twist
my stomach inside out. I never felt such a sensation in my life," and he
shook his head and sighed deeply over the recollection of what he had
passed through.

"Was that where you won your medal, Dad?" questioned Jack eagerly.

"No, my boy. The medal was won some time later, while your two uncles
were in the hospital trying to recover from their wounds. We made two
advances, and then were told to hold our new line. There was a fierce
bombardment early in the morning, and then, because of a mix-up of
orders, part of our command fell back while another tried to go forward.
One of our men, a fellow named Lorimer Spell, a queer sort of chap who
hailed from Texas, was hit by a piece of shell and knocked partly
unconscious. He was unable to save himself, and as I didn't want to see
him killed I ran out from behind our shelter and brought him in."

CHAPTER XVI

DICK ROVER'S HEROISM

It can readily be believed that the Rovers did not sleep much that
night. The boys and girls were downstairs by seven o'clock and waited
anxiously for the appearance of their parents in the dining-room of Dick
Rover's residence, where the fathers were to have breakfast before
returning to the troopship which was docked across the river, at
Hoboken.

"We've got to get back by noon," announced Tom Rover, "and Sam and I
want to pay a visit to Wall Street before we go, so we won't be able to
spend much more time here."

"You were going to tell us how you won that medal, Dad," said Jack,
after breakfast was over and his two uncles had said good-bye to
everybody and left. "What about it?"

"Well, if you must have the story, sit down and I'll give it to you,"
answered Dick Rover, with a smile. "As it happens, the death of Lorimer
Spell may make quite a difference in my plans for this Summer."

"Oh, then the poor man died in spite of your efforts to rescue him!"
said Martha in crestfallen tones.

"He didn't die from that shell wound," answered her father. "But I had
better tell the story from the beginning, since you seem to be so
anxious to hear it."

"You must remember, Dick, that Jack is something of a soldier himself.
He is a captain of the cadets, you know," remarked the mother of the
lad.

"Oh, but that isn't like being a real soldier and fighting for Uncle
Sam!" protested the youth.

"Thi