He likes to work
in a bunch with other Boches, where he can keep step, and maintain
dressing, and mark time if he gets confused. In the air one cannot
mark time, and it worries Fritz to death. I think you will see, in the
next unpleasantness, that we shall be able to maintain our aeroplane
frontier somewhere over the enemy third line. That means that we shall
make our own dispositions with a certain degree of privacy, and the
Boche will not. Also, when our big guns get to work, they will not
need to fire blindly, as in the days of our youth, but will be
directed by one of our R.F.C. lads, humming about in his little bus
above the target, perhaps fifteen miles from the gun. Hallo, there go
the pipes! Tell your men to fall in."

"The whole business," observed Bobby, as he struggled into his
equipment, "sounds so attractive that I am beginning quite to look
forward to the next show!"

"Don't forget the Boche machine-guns, my lad," replied Wagstaffe.

"One seldom gets the chance," grumbled Bobby. "Is there no way of
knocking them out?"

"Well--" Wagstaffe looked intensely mysterious--"of course one never
knows, but--have you heard any rumours on the subject?"

"I have. About--"

"About the Hush! Hush! Brigade?"

Bobby nodded.

"Yes," he said. "Young Osborne, my best subaltern after Angus,
disappeared last month to join it. Tell me, what _is_ the--"

"Hush! Hush!" said Major Wagstaffe. "_Mefiez vous! Taisez vous_! and
so on!"

The battalion moved off.

So much for the war-talk of veterans. Now let us listen to the
novices.

"Bogle," said Angus M'Lachlan to his henchman, "I think we shall have
to lighten this Wolseley valise of mine. With one thing and another it
weighs far more than thirty-five pounds."

"That's a fact, sirr," agreed Mr. Bogle. "It carries ower mony books
in the heid of it."

They shook out the contents of the valise upon the floor of Angus's
bedroom--a loft over the kitchen in "A" Company's farm billet--and
proceeded to prune Angus's personal effects. There were boots, socks,
shaving-tackle, maps, packets of chocolate, and books of every size,
but chiefly of the ever-blessed sevenpenny type.

"A lot of these things will have to go, Bogle," said Angus
regretfully. "The colonel has warned officers about their kits, and it
would never do to have mine turned back from the waggon at the last
minute."

Mr. Bogle pricked up his ears. "The waggon? Are we for off again,
sirr?" he inquired.