tongue. Some one told him that a sergeant of the chasseurs à pied had found him and brought him in to the nearest poste de secours, where Jacks, providentially, had run across him and carried him back to the base. They told him that his rescue had been wonderful, but that nobody knew what the sergeant's name was, or where he had gone to. . . . ("If ever a man ought to have had the Croix de Guerre—!" one of the nurses interjected emotionally.)
Troy listened and shut his lips. It was really none of his business to tell these people where the sergeant had gone to; but he smiled a little when the doctor said: "Chances are a man like that hasn't got much use for decorations . . ." and when the emotional nurse added: "Well, you must just devote the rest of your life to trying to find him."
