"Well, I'm not so bad," replied Captain Anderson modestly. "But to
continue. I finally became afflicted with St. Vitus' dance, and later
with a queer ailment that wouldn't allow me to keep still. I'd hop out of
bed and wander about, with the surgeons or nurses on my heels, and then
I'd fall down in a fit. This continued for several days, and finally they
became tired of following me about, figuring, I suppose, that a man in my
condition couldn't go very far, anyhow."

"This was what I had been waiting for, but I didn't put the plan I had
decided upon into execution at once. I waited for a good chance. At last,
it came. The surgeon was a young chap and smooth shaven, which was lucky
for me. Also he was about my build, and there was some slight resemblance
between us. This day he was with me alone. Not a soul was present save us
two. As he turned his back to look into his medicine case, I struck him
heavily in the back of the neck.

"He toppled over without a sound. Quickly I exchanged clothes with him
and put his body in my bed, after which I picked up his case and walked
boldly out of the hospital."

"Great Scott!" cried Chester. "You had plenty of nerve!"

"Well," continued the captain, "no one interfered with me and I walked
about at will. I kept edging closer and closer to the firing line,
figuring that I would make a break for liberty at the first opportunity.
It came sooner than I expected.

"There had been a big battle, and all surgeons and nurses were rushed to
the front to look after the wounded. I went along. The battle was over,
and we immediately went forth to attend to the wounded. Again I went