opened. The farmer stuck his head out and demanded gruffly what
was wanted; "What now?"

Claude explained in his best French that an American battalion
had just come in; might they sleep in his field if they did not
destroy his stacks?

"Sure," replied the farmer, and shut the window.

That one word, coming out of the dark in such an unpromising
place, had a cheering effect upon the patrol, and upon the men,
when it was repeated to them. "Sure, eh?" They kept laughing over
it as they beat about the field and dug into the straw. Those who
couldn't burrow into a stack lay down in the muddy stubble. They
were asleep before they could feel sorry for themselves.

The farmer came out to offer his stable to the officers, and to
beg them not on any account to make a light. They had never been
bothered here by air raids until yesterday, and it must be
because the Americans were coming and were sending in ammunition.

Gerhardt, who was called to talk to him, told the farmer the
Colonel must study his map, and for that the man took them down
into the cellar, where the children were asleep. Before he lay
down on the straw bed his orderly had made for him, the Colonel
kept telling names and kilometers off on his fingers. For
officers like Colonel Scott the names of places constituted one
of the real hardships of the war. His mind worked slowly, but it
was always on his job, and he could go without sleep for more
hours together than any of his officers. Tonight he had scarcely
lain down, when a sentinel brought in a runner with a message.
The Colonel had to go into the cellar again to read it. He was to
meet Colonel Harvey at Prince Joachim farm, as early as possible
tomorrow morning. The runner would act as guide.

The Colonel sat with his eye on his watch, and interrogated the
messenger about the road and the time it would take to get over
the ground. "What's Fritz's temper up here, generally speaking?"

"That's as it happens, sir. Sometimes we nab a night patrol of a
dozen or fifteen and send them to the rear under a one-man guard.
Then, again, a little bunch of Heinies will fight like the devil.
They say it depends on what part of Germany they come from; the
Bavarians and Saxons are the bravest."

Colonel Scott waited for an hour, and then went about, shaking
his sleeping officers.

"Yes, sir." Captain Maxey sprang to his feet as if he had been
caught in a disgraceful act. He called his sergeants, and they
began to