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Updated: July 1, 2025
You go home, and perhaps your father will get better, and you will get to be the best chums in the world. Cheer up, old chap! It will come out all right. Do you really go tonight?" "Yes, I go to-night. They have got my tickets, and now they are telephoning for my passage." Nickell-Wheelerson sat thinking hard. Then he rose and bolted for the door. "Wait!" called Zaidos.
You see I feel as though I knew this man Smith real well because he knows a schoolmate of mine, Nickell-Wheelerson his name is. He was just a plain boy when we were at school, but he came over with me, and now he's a lord. Poor old Nick, how he will hate it!" Zaidos paused, and stared into the night. Velo scanned him under lowering brows.
"But your father wants you here out of harm's way," urged the Mexican. "He thinks he does," said Nickell-Wheelerson smiling, his blue eyes flashing. "He thinks he does, but I know he is just trying me out. Here's the way it is. Dad's in the field and my second brother; you know my oldest brother was shot in the trenches in France two months ago. I'm nineteen.
When Zaidos could get a word in edgewise, he broke it to Nickell-Wheelerson that he was going away from England, back to America and to that end his passage was already secured on a vessel leaving in a week's time. He was going down to visit some people named Hazelden. "My second cousins, by Jove!" averred Nick, delighted. "A week?
A slim young orderly came out of the Adjutant's office onto the terrace and looked about. Seeing the three boys, he called in a high, clear voice, "Oh, you Nosey!" and as the Greek approached added formally, "Corporal Zaidos is wanted by the Adjutant." "What's he going to get ragged for now, I wonder," mused Nickell-Wheelerson as he and Morales joined the crowd and went into the mess hall.
So I am going to-night with you. They have telephoned about a stateroom. That's all! I'm going to give all my stuff away. I won't come back." Nickell-Wheelerson never did come back. But that is another story. There were a lot of poor marks made that afternoon. With the two most popular fellows in the school going off, there couldn't be much studying.
Then some nights and days went swiftly by, and one morning the boys clasped hands and gruffly spoke their farewells. Nickell-Wheelerson went home to find that his older brother slept in a lowly grave somewhere in France. His father, dead of his wounds, lay in the castle hall, and the boy Nick answered wearily when sorrowing footmen called him "My Lord."
There are two little chaps to carry on the name and take care of the title, if the rest of us go. I've just got to get over there! Don't you see how it is?" "Of course!" said the Mexican, his dark eyes glowing gloomily. "Of course you feel you've got to go! And here I must stay. I want to go home too." "It's different with you," said Nickell-Wheelerson, patting his companion on the back.
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