"
"Goodness, no!" With a laugh the girl seated herself upon her one
camp-chair, inviting her callers to dispose themselves on the
ground about her. "If you can stand the food, I dare say I can.
Now then, tell me what you've been doing since you left Cubitas.
I've been frightened to death that some of you would be hurt.
That's one reason why I've been working night and day helping to
get the hospitals in shape. I can't bear to think of our boys
being wounded."
"Not much chance of OUR getting shot," O'Reilly told her. "But
Leslie--he needs a good talking to. He has gone into the hero
business."
Branch uttered a disdainful grunt. "Nothing of the sort. I'm a
sick man; if I'd rather get shot than suffer a slow death from
neglect, it's my own business, isn't it? Imagine feeding an
invalid on boiled bicycle tires! Gee! I'd like to have a meal of
nice nourishing ptomaines for a change. Hero? Humph!"
Norine eyed the complainant critically, then said: "The diet
agrees with you. You look better than you did."
Branch turned a somber glance upon her and gave vent to a bitter,
sneering laugh. It was plain that he believed she, too, was
attempting to pull the wool over his eyes. "I wish I could find
some poisonous toadstools. I'd eat 'em raw."
"Listen," Norine went on. "Let's play a game. We'll imagine this
is Delmonico's and we'll all take turns ordering the best things
to eat that we can think of.
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