"I was allus a good friend t' yeh, wa'n't I, Henry?
I 've allus been a pretty good feller, ain't I?
An' it ain't much t' ask, is it?
Jest t' pull me along outer th' road?
I'd do it fer you, wouldn't I, Henry ?" He paused in piteous anxiety to await his friend's reply.
The youth had reached an anguish where the sobs scorched him.

He strove to express his loyalty, but he could only make fantastic gestures.
However, the tall soldier seemed suddenly to forget all those fears.
He became again the grim, stalking specter of a soldier.

He went stonily forward.

The youth wished his friend to lean upon him, but the other always shook his head and strangely protested.
"No--no--no--leave me be--leave me be--" His look was fixed again upon the unknown.

He moved with mysterious purpose, and all of the youth's offers he brushed aside.
"No--no--leave me be--leave me be--" The youth had to follow.
Presently the latter heard a voice talking softly near his shoulder.
Turning he saw that it belonged to the tattered soldier.