Jill held out a hand, man fashion. “Any enemy of Jim’s is a friend of mine,” she said. “He has the most fascinating enemies.”

Bert shook her hand and grinned. “Unfortunately, he happens to be my closest friend.” He held a chair for her. “Beer?”

“Fine.”

He pushed his glass of beer over to her and ordered another for himself.

The girl looked at Jim. “We’re not going to be seeing as much of each other as we thought. I’m going to have to change my schedule. I’m dropping both the Chaucer and the French.”

Jim said in protest, “Aw, the devil.”

Bert looked at him. “Chaucer? You?”

Jim was indignant. “What’s wrong with me and Chaucer? Maybe I love all those old Greeks, too.”

Jill looked at him suspiciously. “Jim Hawkins, did you sign up for that course because I was in the class?”

The lanky one cleared his throat and looked at his watch. He jerked his head in a gesture of resignation. “I’m going to have to go.” He looked at Bert suspiciously. “I don’t trust you with my girl, old buddy.”

Bert Alshuler put his hand over his heart. “You’re my own old buddy.”

Jim said, “Ha.” He came to his feet, and said, “Don’t you two do anything I would do.”

Jill said, “Ha.”

When Jim was gone, Jill looked after him reflectively. “He’s a nice guy,” she said, but there was friendly camaraderie in her voice, rather than an emotion indicating a relationship between man and woman.

He said, “Yeah. He saved my life eleven times.”

She looked at him, startled. “Eleven times? Where in the name of heavens were you?”

“Saving his life.”

She frowned, as though seeking the joke. “I mean where were the two of you?”

“Back to back in a machine gun nest. The gun was jammed and all we had were our automatics. Later on when the relief came, we counted them. There were ten on my side and eleven on his. If he hadn’t been there, those eleven gooks would have come up on my back. If I hadn’t been there, those ten would have come up on his. I figure I owe him one life.” He added softly, “And I hope some day to catch up with him. Jim’s the best.”