A SHORT STORY.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 29, Issue 40, 25 May 1917, Page 2

A SHORT STORY.

A MARVELLOUS CURE I

■ Looking straight ah sad of him, a rather curious expression on his face, Leslie Joyce came out ‘■'he recruiting office. He had failed to Pass the medical test.

The doctor had rc.-crded him with obvious surprise when he had professed himself unable to read the letters on the card on the wall, but he made no comment. He was a busy man, with no time to give to special testa, and, beyond a little grunt, he expressed no sign of dissatisfaction. Joyce showed one of the sergeants waiting outside the room his blue form with the word "Rejected scrawled across it ; and then, picking his way through the crowd of deter-mined-looking waiting young men, he reached tiie street.

As he stopped for a moment to light a cigarette, a girl oa a bicycle came round the corner.

She was a pretty/girl with coppery hair and big, wide-open hazel eyes, and the simple holland frock she wore suited her slim young form admirably. "Hallo !” she called out gaily, catching sight of him. She slowed down, and jumped off her machine. "I was just wondering if I should come across you. Well, is it Private Leslie Joyce how ?” He raised his straw hat and took ills cigarette out of. his mouth. "Weil,” he said hurriedly, "I’ve up before the doctor, and—and th?y won’t have me !” "What do you mean?” asked the girl quickly. She seemed genuinely surprised. "Won’t have you? Why, surely you’re quite fit and strong, aren't you ?” She looked him over as she spoke. To all outward appearance he was a perfectly healthy, well-built, strong young man. He was tall, finely set up, broad-shouldered, and, judging by his lean brown hands and sun-tanned face, he was in excellent physical condition.

“It’a not that. I’m all right in one way/” he said. ‘‘lt’s my eyes. Can’t understand it, but I couldn’t manage the test at all.” He appeared to find something awkward about the explanation.

‘‘Your eyes ?” she said. ‘‘But I thought your eyesight was quite all right ? It has never worried you at cricket, or tennis, or anything like that, has it ?” ‘‘That’s jaat it. My eyes are all right in some ways, but apparently in others they’re not. Jolly sickening !” She nodded.

"It must he. But what, about glasses ? They take men with glasses now, yon know. Besides, if you can’t get in as a fighting man, why not try another branch—the Medical, the Army Service, or something of that sort ?”

He appeared to have anticipated the question of glasses. “Yes, of course. I know there is still a chance for me with specs. I mean to run up to town to see a specialist chap on Saturday. I’m not very keen on any branch but the actual fighting one, if I can possibly get In somehow.” “Good !” said the girl approvingly. “Go to a good man and tell him he must put you right !” she laughed. She put her right foot on the pedal of her bicycle. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. “Jim has got four days’ leave from the Front, and we expect him home this afternoon. Come to dinner; I know you’ll like to see him.”

"Thanks awfully !” said Joyce. “Is he all right ? Good ! I shall love to see him. At seven, then !” For some reason Leslie Joyce frowned to himself several times before ho reached the bank where he worked. He was very fond of Annabel Leigh, but as for her brother Jim

“Confound !” he muttered when he thought of Jim Leigh. It was on Saturday night that the Zeppelin dropped its explosive bombs on Barrgate .

The Lelghs were sitting out on the j lawn when Jim’s quick ears first | heard the hum of the gasbag’s engines. “Hallo !” he said quite calmly and coolly. “That’s not a plane, I’ll bet my boots. Better take cover, all of j you. Come on, mater !“ j He took his mother’s arm, while Annabel'and Leslie Joyce, who had! | got back irom his visit to the Lon-1 don eye specialist in time to join I them at dinner, followed. They had | got indoors, when Mrs. Leigh discovered she had left her bag outside. “I’ll get it in a second !" volunteered Joyce.

And. taking no notice of Jim’s warning he ran back to the lawn. As he did so, from out of the blackness .of the night hurtled a bomb. It fell into the kitchen garden, beyond the lawn, at the precise instant Joyed was stooping to pick up Mrs. Leigh’s bag, and for a moment he was con- j scions of a bright flash, followed by j a sort of minor earthquake. The; ground seemed to rise up and hit himi in the face, and thereafter all was ] blank to him. ! When he woke up someone was bending over him. j “Steady on, old chap !’’ said a voice—Jim Leigh's voice—out of the, blackness. It was curiously dark and: black all round him. “How do you feel—eh ?”

"A bit cheep !” he admitted. “What happened ? It’s beastly dark, isn’t it ?”

Jim sat down on the bed beside him.

“Oh. thsy just missed you when you went back for the mater s bag. Tow nwwwnber, don't you ? You were itM out. No, don’t touch that ban-

aage, oia cnap.” Joyce had put one of his hands up to his head. He had on a bandage covering his eyes. Jim caught, his hand and moved it away. “Better keep that on till Muirhead comes and has a look at you,” he advised soothingly. "Muirhead ?” asked Joyce. "You don’t mean Muirhead the eye-man ?” There was just a trace of anxiety in the question. "Yes.” admitted Jim Leigh. “We thought we’d better try to get him, as he’s got your case in hand. You were telling us at dinner how you went up to see him, and how he said he couldn’t quite make out your trouble, you remember. Annabel is trying to find his number to get through on the trunk ’phone to him.'

Leslie Joyce, fully conscious now, considered matters swiftly for some moments.

“What’s the hour ?” he inquired. "Just half-past nine,” Jim told him.

“Half-past nine ?’•’ repeated Joyce. "Oh, then, I’ve only been knocked out about half an hour !” .He seemed to think for a couple of seconds. “I sav, you know, I hardly think it it necessary to send to town for Muirhead. He’s frightfully expensive, isn’t he ?”

"Yes ; but in a matter of this sort ” suggested Jim. "Just as you like, however. Still, don’t you think you had better see someone ?”

"Why?” interrupted the other, a little nervously. "You don’t think — think there’s anything seriously wrong, do you ?"

"Eyes are very funny things,” replied Jim diplomatically. “I’ve had a look at yours, and although I’m not an expert, it seems to me that—that—well—er ’'

His floundering speech frightened Joyce, and once again he put his hand to the bandage. | "Good lord !” he exclaimed, a sud-1 den dreadful thought frightening him. j "Good lord, man, you don’t mean to; tell me'l’m—l’m blind?" j The other did not answer. I "I wonder —that is—would you| mind taking this bandage off ?” i Joyce whispered in a voice which struck him as singularly unlike his own. !

Jim Leigh stood up, and leaning; over him took off the bandage. There; was a suggestion of reluctance about i the way he set to work.

"There you are !” he said quietly, I when it was off. j Leslie Joyce uttered a cry of hor-j ror. His worst fears were confirmed.! He could not see anything at all. j "My heavens !” he exclaimed frantically, sitting up. "I’m blind !” j He began to struggle off the bed. j Jim Leigh gripped him,by the arm. i “Stop where you are !” he order-j ed authoritatively. "Can’t you see ; anything ? Hold your hand up ! Can j you see it ?” j

Joyce did as he was bid. j "I can’t see anything—anything, I tell you !” He almost shouted ; he began to groan. "Good lord, it’s a judgment on me ! A judgment !’•’ "A judgment?” said Jim, holding j him tightly. "What do you mean by i that ?” ■ j “I mean I’ve been fooling you—all j of you—about my eyes. There was i nothing wrong with them. But I j didn’t want to join the army—l; thought there were plenty without j me. I was a shirker—anything you i like. I wanted a way out that would j save my face, so I fooled the doctor | —pretended I couldn’t see the letters I on the wall. I failed on purpose. ] Then I lied to Anna—to your sister, i I mean. Then I lied to «dl of you. I never saw Muirhead at all !” • "I guessed most of this,” said Jim! quietly, "from, what you said Muir-i head told you. I happen to have! studdied eyes, you know. Made; rather a speciality of ’em at Guy’s, j as a matter of fact.” i There was silence for a second or two, and then Joyce spoke. !■

“Well ?” he said. “Well, are you going to give me away ?” “That depends,” answered Jim, “on what you are prepared to do.” “Do ?” queried Joyce. “What do you mean ? What can I do ?” “You might join the army yet,” said the other reflectively. “You have just said you wish you had.” Joyce broke in wildly.

“Don’t talk such rot ! How can I join the army ? I’m blind, you fool, blind !”

As ha finished speaking Jim Leigh got off the bed, tip-toed to the elec-tric-light switch, and turned on the light. Then he turned round and looked into the blinking eyes of the other man.

“That's right ! Have a good look round, old chap !’’ he chuckled. “And kindly observe how skilfully I have put away, or covered up, every light object in tbe room. Jolly thick curtains those arc, too.”

Leslie Joyce looked round, and then, in tense relief, he uttered the one word, “Spoofed 1” “Soppled, as you say,” agreed Jim. “Now, what about it ? Am I to give you away ?” He moved towards the door. “For Heaven’s sake,” exclaimed the still bewildered Joyce, “don’t rush like this, man ! Where are you going?’’

“To find Annabel,” replied Jim. “I’m going to tell her not to worry about that call to Muirhead, that you can see much better than you could. A sort of marvellous cure, you know—what ?” “Tell her—tell her anything but the truth !” pleaded Joyce, with sudden earnestness. Then he became vehement. “t won't have those fiends dropping their beastly bombs on my friends and me without doing something in return ! If they won’t take me for a soldier at one place, I’ll try another. I’ll ” “Good man !” said Jim approvingly.—“ Answers,”