ing fits now and then, and had to be humoured. It was
like going about with your grandmother, one of the invisible
Tommies said, "she is such a pompous old thing!" The Major was
asleep on the rear truck; he was going to get the V.C. for
sleeping. More giggles.

No, they hadn't any idea where they were going; of course, the
officers knew, but artillery officers never told anything. What
was this country like, anyhow? They were new to this part, had
just come down from Verdure.

Claude said he had a friend in the air service up there; did they
happen to know anything about Victor Morse?

Morse, the American ace? Hadn't he heard? Why, that got into the
London papers. Morse was shot down inside the Hun line three
weeks ago. It was a brilliant affair. He was chased by eight
Boche planes, brought down three of them, put the rest to flight,
and was making for base, when they turned and got him. His
machine came down in flames and he jumped, fell a thousand feet
or more.

"Then I suppose he never got his leave?" Claude asked.

They didn't know. He got a fine citation.

The men settled down to wait for the weather to improve or the
night to pass. Some of them fell into a doze, but Claude felt
wide awake. He was wondering about the flat in Chelsea; whether
the heavy-eyed beauty had been very sorry, or whether she was
playing "Roses of Picardy" for other young officers. He thought
mournfully that he would never go to London now. He had quite
counted on meeting Victor there some day, after the Kaiser had
been properly disposed of. He had really liked Victor. There was
something about that fellow... a sort of debauched baby, he
was, who went seeking his enemy in the clouds. What other age
could have produced such a figure? That was one of the things
about this war; it took a little fellow from a little town, gave
him an air and a swagger, a life like a movie-film,--and then a
death like the rebel angels.

A man like Gerhardt, for instance, had always lived in a more or
less rose-colored world; he belonged over here, really. How could
he know what hard moulds and crusts the big guns had broken open
on the other side of the sea? Who could ever make him understand
how far it was from the strawberry bed and the glass cage in the
bank, to the sky-roads over Verdure?

By three o'clock the rain had stopped. Claude and Hicks set off
again, accompanied by one of the gun team who was going back to
get help for their tractor. As i