Cheval wore upon his breast a
silver medal resembling nothing so much as an ace. For a wonder Blaine
himself wore a tricolor ribbon with a tiny gold cross that Erwin was
sure he had never seen his athletic countryman have before.
At sight of Erwin's pale face and rather fragile form, now animated
with conversational fire and energy, the big American turned to his
French comrade, saying:
"There, my friend! Did I not tell you that our brave little comrade
would be more like himself today than he has been any time these ten
days? Say little one," bending over Orry affectionately, "have you got
over that nasty spell yet? Ha -- I guess so!"
"Where's that Bleriot the Sergeant said we must bring back? I was in
it when -- when the Boches or -- or the devil got me."
"That Bleriot, like yourself, mon comrade, is in the hospital; that is,
the repair shop." This from Monsieur Cheval, still wearing his right
arm in a sling, though now divested of splints.
"Oh!" A flash of dim recollection came to Orry for a moment, "I kind
of remember. First there was a bluff, with what looked like a
communicating trench, in spots. Just as if most of it was covered. I
dropped some bombs I had left on the moving gray something I saw.
After that I skimmed over the bluff. Then there was a stream, and
another embankment beyond. After that I don't seem to remember much.
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