"There you go again, Mac! What a bundle of tow you are, to be sure; I might just as soon touch a match to a magazine."
"Doctor, tell Hatton I want him,—must see him before he goes."
"Confound it, man, I told him to keep away. Why do you want him?"
"Because I must see him. You'll have a crazy man on your hands if you don't." And Weeks decided it best to let this headstrong Highlander have his way.
That night, in his field-dress and all ready to start, Hatton gently came to his comrade's bed-side.
"What is it, old man?" he asked. "Weeks told me first to slip away without saying good-by,—I'll only be gone a week,—and then hunted me up and said you wanted to see me."
McLean looked out in the front room.
"Send that man away for a while," he said.
"Now for it," groaned Hatton, between his teeth. "Something new, and he's got hold of it. How in heaven am I to keep my story to myself?"
Obediently at a word from Hatton, the hospital attendant took his cap and stepped outside. Then McLean put forth his hand and took that of the senior lieutenant.