So far Cameron had not had a scratch, and the men had come to think he had a charmed life. More than he knew he was beloved of them all. More than they knew their respect for him was deepening into a kind of awe. They felt he had a power with him that they understood not. He was still the silent corporal. He talked not at all of his new-found experience, yet it shone in his face in a mysterious light. Even after he came from Wainwright with that stricken look, there was above it all a glory behind his eyes that not even that could change. For three days he went into the thick of the battle, moving from one hairbreadth escape to another with the calmness of an angel who knows his life is not of earth, and on the fourth day there came the awful battle, the struggle for a position that had been held by the enemy for four years, and that had been declared impregnable from the side of the Allies.
The boys all fought bravely and many fell, but foremost of them all passing unscathed from height to height, Corporal Cameron on the lead in fearlessness and spirit; and when the tide at last was turned and they stood triumphant among the dead, and saw the enemy retiring in disorder, it was Cameron who was still in the forefront, his white face and tattered uniform catching the last rays of the setting sun.
Later when the survivors had all come together one came to the captain with a white face and anxious eyes: "Captain, where's Cammie? We can't find him anywhere."
"He came a half hour ago and volunteered to slip through the enemy's lines to-night and send us back a message," he said in husky tones.
"But, captain, he was wounded!"
"He was?" The captain looked up startled. "He said nothing about it!"
"He wouldn't, of course," said the soldier. "He's that way. But he was wounded in the arm. I helped him bind it up."
"How bad?"
"I don't know. He wouldn't let me look. He said he would attend to it when he got back."
"Well, he's taken a wireless in his pocket and crept across No Man's Land to find out what the enemy is going to do. He's wearing a dead Jerry's uniform----!"
The captain turned and brushed the back of his hand across his eyes and a low sound between a sob and a whispered cheer went up from the gathered remnant as they rendered homage to their comrade.