r Flanders, or somewhere on the Western front,
and make films. What we are to get mostly are pictures of our own boys."

"Most of them are in France."

"Well, then we'll go to France. We're to get scenes of life in the camps
there, as well as in the trenches. They're for official army records,
some of them, I believe."

"And I hope that crazy Frenchman doesn't follow us over and spoil any
more films," added Charles, who was loading a camera.

"Not much danger of that," was Joe's opinion.

"Come, don't nurse a grudge," advised Blake.

It was about a week after this that the two boys were ready to take the
first of the camp pictures over again.

"Better make 'em double, so there won't be another accident," advised
Charles.

"Oh, don't worry! We'll take care of them this time," said Blake.

The long lines of khaki-clad soldiers marched and countermarched. They
"hiked," went into camp, cooked, rushed into the trenches, had bayonet
drill, and some went up in aeroplanes. All of this was faithfully
recorded by the films.

Blake and Joe were standing together, waiting for the army officer to
plan some new movements, when a voice behind the two lads asked:

"Pardon me! But are these the new official films?"

Joe and Blake turned quickly before replying. They saw regarding them a
slim young fellow with a tiny moustache. His face was browned, as if
from exposure to sun and air, and he wore a well-fitting and attractive
blue uniform with a leather belt about his waist and another over his
shoulder.

"Yes, these are the official films," answered Blake.

"And are you the official artists?"

"Camera men--just plain camera men," corrected Joe.

"Ah, I am interested!" The man spoke with a slight, and not unpleasing,
accent. "Can you tell me something about your work?" he asked. "I am
very much interested. I would like to know----"

At that moment Macaroni slid up to Blake with a roll of new film, and
hoarsely whispered:

"That's the guy that knocked into me and spilled the beans!"

The Frenchman, for it was he, caught the words and smiled.

"Pardon," he murmured. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Monsieur
Secor, and I believe I did have the misfortune to spoil some films for
you. A thousand pardons!" and Monsieur Secor, with a quick glance at the
two boys, bowed low.

CHAPTER IV

ALL ABOARD

Blake was about to make a sharp reply to the polite Frenchman, when he
happened to remember what the comman