"There is a girl, Teresa," he said shortly.

"Yes, I know. Tell me about her."

"I can't," he exclaimed, bitterly. He arose and walked quickly
away. Teresa's dark eyes followed him in pity and wonder, aye,
affection. Then she shook her head sadly and turned her attention
elsewhere--not piqued, much to her own amazement.

Reinforcements came up two days later with the word that the
commander in chief expected the campaign against Pilar to end within
a week, and that hard fighting was ahead. The Red Cross people were
following hard upon the heels of the regiment and field hospitals
were to be established. This information was so suggestive of fierce
and final combat that the men felt their sluggish blood leap wildly
into life.

Every man in the band of newcomers was singing the praises of
a wonderfully beautiful Red Cross nurse. The stories told of her
charms were varied, but none lacked enthusiasm. Some said she was
the daughter of a rich magnate come to do service in the cause of
humanity; others were sure she was a great and beautiful actress
who was sacrificing everything to conspicuous advertising. All,
however, were agreed in the praise of her noble beauty.

The little detachment on guard turned up its collective nose and
proudly pointed to Teresa Velasquez.

"Look at that," said Bob Spurrier. "Can she stack up with the