Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/165

 Hours later when the firing had lessened somewhat, Joe Tooks leaned over the body of his chum. His voice shook, as he said, "Guess now he won't need dat puddin'."

Dirk Dock's face was a mass of dirt and blood. It had been raining for hours so it is no wonder his eyes were moist.

"Reckon he's de luckiest feller of us all," he said huskily, "cause he's gone home fer Christmas."