which, as Bob had said, was to go on night and day. He was
watching the shrapnel bursting in the distance far over the German
lines, where our guns were delivering a barrage fire to isolate the
front enemy trenches from food and supports, when the sentry called to
him.

"The general is asking for you, sir," said the man, and Dennis stepped
back and re-entered the cottage.

"Here you are, my boy," said his father. "You know the way to Divisional
Headquarters. There are a couple of motor-cycles standing at the end of
the cottage, take your pick and away with you."

"You will find the road has been badly shelled at the next village,"
said the brigade-major, holding up his map-case and tracing the route
Dennis would have to follow. "And here, at this point, the supply column
got it rather badly earlier in the night--there may be wagons still
lying about. When you've passed that it's all plain sailing."

"Do I report to you, sir, on my return?" inquired the boy.

"Yes," said the brigadier. "Then you can leave the bike and rejoin your
company. I could have 'phoned this, but it's all experience, and may
stand you in good stead."

Perhaps the brigade-major, as he nodded a cheery good night, understood
the father's wish to place the youngster out of danger, if it were only
for a few hours, but as Dennis swung into the saddle and waved his hand,
neither he nor the brigadier foresaw the things that were going to
happen.

The road was a fairly straight one, and Dennis found the shell holes
without difficulty, shutting off his engine only just in time as he
plunged down into the first of them like Quintus Curtius of old.

"Hang it, that's a bad start," he laughed when he found the machine had
sustained no injury, but it took him a good five minutes to get it up
again, and after that he was more careful.

A little farther on he encountered a supply column of the A.S.C., and
coasted by them without much difficulty, until at last a red lantern
gleaming above a green one told him that he had reached Divisional
Headquarters.

There he found the staff busy, and a good deal of quiet bustle as the
various brigade commanders' reports arrived, and a telegraphic operator
in a shell-proof dug-out was transmitting the night's news to Sir
Douglas Haig at ----.

Dennis handed in his dispatch, which was duly read by the
lieutenant-general commanding the division, a florid officer with a
white moustache, who held the communication in o