y. He was perhaps strongly
conscious of the devil at his right hand.

They detrained and hiked across a bit of wet country that was all
alike--all mud, in the dull light that grew only to accentuate the
ugliness and dreariness of everything. Sunny France! And this was sunny
France!

At last they halted along a muddy roadside and lined up for what seemed
an interminable age, waiting for something, no one knew what, nor cared.
They were beyond caring, most of them, poor boys! If their mothers had
appeared with a bowl of bread and milk and called them to bed they would
have wept in her arms with joy. They stood apathetically and waited,
knowing that sometime after another interminable age had passed, the red
tape necessary to move a large body like themselves would be unwound, and
everything go on again to another dreary halt somewhere. Would it ever be
over? The long, long trail?

Cameron stood with the rest in a daze of discouragement, not taking the
trouble to think any more. His head was hot and his chest felt heavy,
reminding him of Wainwright's fat knee; and he had an ugly cough.

Suddenly someone--a comrade--touched him on the shoulder.

"Come on in here, Cammie, you're all in. This is the Salvation Army Hut!"

Cameron turned. Salvation Army! It sounded like the bells of heaven. Ah!
It was something he could think back to, that little Salvation Army Hut
at camp! It brought the tears into his throat in a great lump. He lurched
after his friend, and dropped into the chair where he was pushed, sliding
his arms out on the table before him and dropping his head quickly to
hide his emotion. He couldn't think what was the matter with him. He
seemed to be all giving way.

"He's all in!" he heard the voice of his friend, "I thought maybe you
could do something for him. He's a good old sport!"

Then a gentle hand touched his shoulder, lightly, like his mother's hand.
It thrilled him and he lifted his bleared eyes and looked into the face
of a kindly gray-haired woman.

She was not a handsome woman, though none of the boys would ever let her
be called homely, for they claimed her smile was so glorious that it gave
her precedence in beauty to the greatest belle on earth. There was a real
mother lovelight in her eyes now when she looked at Cameron, and she held
a cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand, real coffee with sugar and
cream and a rich aroma that gave life to his sinking soul.

"Here, son, drink this!" she s