John stepped quickly to the stretcher and ran his hands over Jake's
body, then stood and cried. "They're warm--and alive!"
During their brief wait in the cave they had seen the old soldier
stumping around on two wooden legs, supplemented by crutches. He was
spry and cheerful for a man nearly seventy years old, and his hands and
arms were abnormally strong. Hilda had been indignant that the army
should neglect this old hero and fail to provide him with suitable
artificial limbs. Her own handicap made her feel a special sympathy,
and she had stopped to talk with the old fellow briefly. He told her
that he had been wounded in the battle against the Japs in the Marshall
Islands during 1944.
Now the old soldier lay, with a slightly flushed face, breathing
quietly, and in place of the wooden pegs were _two perfectly formed
legs wrapped in silvery transparent leggings_!
As they watched, the old man slowly awakened, but lay still as if
dazed. Then an expression of alarm or amazement began to open his eyes.
He moved his toes, and then lay back muttering, "No, it's just another
of them nerve tricks--the way I used to feel about the weather!" But he
slowly raised his head, as if fascinated. When his eyes focused on the
new feet, he snapped suddenly to a sitting position and reached for his
ankles.
"I can feel! I can feel--They're alive!" he screamed.
Then he saw John bending over him, and the others in the background.
"How did you do it--What's happened--Am I dreaming?"
"No, old chap, it's real enough, but the old ones must have done it for
you."