“In a few seconds we had all the prisoners roped and willing to follow wherever we commanded—even to the ends of the earth. And Jo insisted upon taking our officer upon his own broad back. We managed to secure the Lieutenant to his back by means of bits of harness found in the ruins of the old barn, and having secured the important order in my own breast-pocket, we started out, driving the four prisoners before us.
“It was almost dawn when we reached our own line, and great was the welcome we got as we came in ‘bringing our sheaves with us.’ But, as I say, Bob and I got the medals, for doing what really Johann brought to a pass. Without his presence at the very moment when he was needed most, I would have been a dead man and Bob would have been at the mercy of three lively Huns. And it was Jo who turned the table for us.”
When Bill had finished his story, the girls cheered for Jo. He was just approaching with the next course, but when he saw all the eager smiling faces turned his way, and realized that Beel had told the story of the old ruins, he set the heavy tray upon the seat of a chair and fled. Scouts were sent to find him and bring him back, but not a trace of him could they see. He had found a better hiding place than his seester’s dress in which he had travelled back to his home in Belgium that day.
“Well, let’s finish our dinner, children, and then we will take up the hunt for Jo. It will be better fun than hunting the slipper,” remarked Mr. Dalken.
The dinner continued merrily, every one pleased at the discovery of a real hero on the crew of the yacht, and Mr. Dalken pleased to hear of Jo’s courage and simple childlike bravery without thought of recompense. But he also had a plan.
Later in the evening, while the young folks were dancing and trying their best to forget the warm climate of the Equator, Mr. Dalken slipped away and remained absent for some time. He had gone to find Jo and have a heart to heart talk with him.
Thus he learned that Jo had signed up to take this voyage in order to earn more money to send to his sister who now was in a French hospital in the north of France, suffering from nervous collapse and lack of nutrition. His aged mother had died from exposure at the time the enemy had swarmed over Belgium and had driven every native forth from home and friends.
“Well, Jo, I am going to communicate with a relative who is doing reconstruction work in France now, and I shall ask her to visit your sister and see if she is able to travel. If she is I shall send her the money to bring her over to you, and henceforth you shall work for me—not for the Captain, or the chef, or any other boss, but for me. Do you like the plan?”
Johann sat and stared for a few moments, then he jumped up and shouted. “Do I like heem! Oh, Meester Boss, I love heem! And my seek seester—ah, I love you, Beeg Boss!” And to Mr. Dalken’s astonishment Johann threw both arms about his neck and wept tears of joy upon the nice black dinner coat.
But Mr. Dalken never mentioned this to others, for he appreciated the embrace which came spontaneously from the heart of this great big giant of a young Belgian whose gratitude was unbounded. And he took Johann’s hand and shook it in a friendly way, to seal the compact. Just as he ended the hand-shaking, the chef came in.