ortable thrill. MacDougall lowered
his gun.

"Lord preserve us, but that's the time you almost drew a perforation!"
he exclaimed. "It isn't safe to cut-up in these diggings any more--not
with Sandy MacDougall!"

He held out a hand with a relieved laugh, and the two men shook in a
grip that made their fingers ache.

"Is this the way you welcome all of your friends, Mac?"

MacDougall shrugged his shoulders and laid his gun on a table in the
center of the room.

"Can't say that I've got a friend left in camp," he said, with a
curious grimace. "What in thunder do you mean, Phil? I've tried to
reason something out of it, but I can't!"

Philip was hanging up his cap and coat on one of a number of wooden
pegs driven into the long wall. He turned quickly.

"Reason something out of what?" he said.

"Your instructions from Churchill," replied MacDougall, picking up a
big, black-bowled pipe from the table.

Philip sat down with a restful sigh, crossed his legs, loaded his pipe,
and lighted it.

"Thought I made myself lucid enough, even for a Scotchman, Sandy," he
said. "I learned at Churchill that the big fight is going to be pulled
off mighty soon. It's about time for the fireworks. So I told you to
put the sub-camps in fighting shape, and arm every responsible man in
this camp. There's going to be a whole lot of gun-work before you're
many days older. Great Scott, man, don't you understand NOW? What's the
matter?"

MacDougall was staring at him as if struck dumb.

"You told me--to arm--the camps?" he gasped.

"Yes, I sent you full instructions two weeks ago."

"MacDougall tapped his forehead suspiciously with a stubby forefinger.

"You're mad--or trying to pull off a poor brand of joke!" he exclaimed.
"If you're dreaming, come out of it. Look here, Phil," he cried, a
little heatedly, "I've been having a hell of a time since you left the
camp, and I want to talk seriously."

It was Philip who stared now. He fairly thrust himself upon the
engineer.

"Do you mean to say you didn't get my letter telling you to put the
camps in fighting shape?"

"No, I didn't get it," said MacDougall. "But I got the other."

"There was no other!"

MacDougall jumped to his feet, darted to his bunk, and came back a
moment later with a letter. He thrust it almost fiercely into Philip's
hands. A sweat broke out upon his face as he saw its effect upon his
companion. Philip's face was deadly pale when he looked up from the
lette