"I'm not goin' now," Tim cried angrily. "I've swore 'tis not a step I take till I've said 'God bless ye' to thot angel nurse!"
"There, there, Tim, keep quiet! Haven't I promised that you could?" Bonsecours smiled at him.
"Thin w'ot's the lad sayin' about takin' me now?"
"Oh, I only meant when you are ready, Tim," Jeb did his part to quiet the excited little sergeant; then, to the doctor, he added quickly: "I want to go back with the ambulance, that's all. The Americans landed yesterday, and——"
"But," the surgeon gasped at this unusual request, "Barrow needs you!"
"I guess he doesn't, so awfully much," Jeb flushed. "If you can possibly arrange it for me, I'll be greatly obliged. I've—I've just got to get in the ranks, Doctor! I can't explain what I mean—but it's those children! Why, if each of the ten million American fellows who registered for our New Army could see only a part of cruelties I've seen, they'd break their necks getting over here!—and they wouldn't go back, either, not even for Christmas, till the last of these German High-in-Command was in prison, or dead! I'm only asking for a chance to make good——"
"Cut thot out," Tim called huskily. "It hur-rts me leg!"
Bonsecours laughed but, still protesting, said:
"I can't keep the ambulance waiting!"
"You won't have to; I'm ready now."