Leroy Kenneth

“ The snow they kicked up in the struggle was pounced on by the wind and instantly streaked away into the dusk. The Sculpin slammed O'Neil into a drift and sat on his chest.
"Enough," panted O'Neil.
"Awake?" the Sculpin asked, and O'Neil nodded assurance. "Then listen." The Sculpin spoke slowly, and earnestly. "I've taken your place, here—on the ice. You take my place, over there—with the old crew."
"Where?" perplexedly.
"Overseas—in the trenches. They need men. They need us both. You wouldn't go for yourself. You will go for me. That's what I'm saving you for." ”

“ The men huddled together, a helpless mob, and the wind whipped stinging particles of ice and snow into their faces.
"Blowin' harder every minute," whined Scotly in despair.
"Let it come," sang the Sculpin, a smile of delight at the prospect wreathing his ice-cemented face. "Let it come. I ain't afraid."
O'Neil knew a desire to sleep was a symptom of freezing, yet his eyes would close in spite of him, and the icicles on his lashes seemed to lock his eyes if he even winked.
"Every man for himself," he said, and slumped to the ice. ”

“ O'Neil did not want to fight; he wanted to be left alone—to sleep. The sting of the Sculpin's blows roused him, and he attempted to ward them off. Then, in petulance, he fought back; but not much science can be shown with nearly a pound of ice and frozen woolen on each hand.
The Sculpin tripped over the body of a dead seal and fell. O'Neil, now thoroughly angry, leaped onto the fallen body and clawed for the throat; but the oil-skins were buttoned high and thick with ice, and his frozen mittens made a choking hold impossible. ”