CHAPTER FORTY.
WINDING UP.
The adventures of Oliver West and his friend Ingleborough were pretty well at an end; and it was time, for between wounds and exposure they had been brought to a state which necessitated plenty of rest and comforts to enable them to quite recover themselves.

Of feasting, praising, and complimenting they had their fill--more than enough, West said, for he declared that the hues of returning health which were coming into his cheeks were only blushes caused by the way in which people talked about his bravery, dash, "and all that stuff." Ingleborough took it all more contentedly.
"I don't mind their praising us!" he said.

"Frankly, I rather like it; and, without bragging, I think we did earn it all!" "Well, we did run some risks!" said West; "and of course it's much nicer for our friends to know that we escaped and are alive and well." "And a jolly deal nicer for us too.

But what do you say to joining the army?
After what the General said I think we might both get commissions." "Perhaps," said West; "but it's doubtful now that everything is settling down.

I feel disposed to invest my share of the loot and to stop on with the company after the splendid offer they have made me.