“Meek nothing!  He has more spirit than any cub we’ve had to get into shape this many a moon.  It isn’t that.  It is just that he has the right idea, had it from the start however he came by it.  You know what it is, captain.  It is obedience, first, last and all the time, the will to be willed.  A soldier’s job is to do what he is told whether he likes it or not, whether it is his job or not, whether it makes sense or not, whether he gets his orders from a man he looks up to and respects or whether he gets them from a low down cur that he knows perfectly well isn’t fit to black his boots—­none of that makes any difference.  It is up to him to do what he is told and he does it without a kick if he’s wise.  Young Holiday is wise.  He’d had his medicine sometime.  One sees that.  I don’t know why he dropped down on us like a shooting star the way he did, some college fiasco I understand.  He doesn’t talk about himself or his affairs though he is a frank outspoken youngster in other ways.  But there was a look in his eyes when he came to us that most boys of twenty don’t have, thank the Lord!  And it is that look or what is behind it that has made him ace high here.  That boy struck bottom somewhere and struck it hard.  I’ll bet my best belt on that.”

This interested Geoffrey Annersley.  He thought he understood what the colonel meant.  There was something in Ted Holiday’s eyes which betrayed that he had already been under fire somehow.  He had seen it himself.

“He is as smart as they make ’em,” went on the colonel.  “Quick as a flash to think and to see and to act, never loses his head.  And he’s a wonder with the men, jollies ’em along when they are grousing or homesick, sets ’em grinning from ear to ear when they are down-hearted, has a pat on the shoulder for this one and a jeer for that one.  Old and young they are all crazy about him.  They’d go anywhere he led.  I tell you he’s the stuff that will take ’em over the top and make the boches feel cold in the pit of their fat tumtums when they see him coming.  Lord, but the uselessness of it though!  He’ll get killed.  His kind always does.  They are always in front.  They are made that way.  Can’t help it.  Sometimes they do come through though.”  The colonel flashed a quick admiring glance at his guest who had also been the kind that was always in front and yet had somehow by the grace of something come through in spite of the hazards he had run and the deaths he had all but died.  “You are a living witness to that little fact,” he added.  “Lord love us!  It’s all in the game anyway and a man can die but once.”

The next day Corporal Holiday was given a brief leave of absence from camp at the request of the distinguished British officer.  Together the two went over the strange story of Elinor Ruth Farringdon and the Holidays’ connection with the later chapters thereof.  They decided not to write to the Hill as Annersley was planning to go to Boston next day whence he was to return soon to England his mission accomplished, and could easily stop over in Dunbury on his way and set things right in person, perhaps even by his personal presence renew Ruth’s memory of things she had forgotten.