ractive in such weather.
Up at the front, though, there is nothing at all of France left.
There is nothing but bare ground, full of shell-holes. The whole
face of nature has been denuded and blackened by the atrocious enemy."

When the train had been under way a couple of minutes Captain
Ribaut leaned forward.

"Look over there," he said, "and you will see where your regiment
will he housed for the next two or three days. After that the
regiment will entrain and will go to one of the regular training
camps, where you will find it on your return from the front."

His American hearers looked out on a large village of unpainted pine
barracks buildings.

"That is a rest camp for troops when first they come from the
transport," explained Captain Ribaut. "Even the barracks are
American, built in sections in your country, then shipped over
here and set up. The village you are passing will shelter two
regiments of American infantry."

Before long the Americans found themselves much more interested
in the French officer's conversation than in the glimpses of his
country that were obtainable. Captain Ribaut had served from
the beginning of the war and was familiar with every trick of
fighting practiced at the front. He had a wealth of information
to give them---so much, in fact, that before long Dick Prescott
began to jot down information in a notebook.

Toward the end of the forenoon a soldier came aboard at one station
with an outfit of dishes on two long trays. He was followed by
two others bearing food and coffee. These were set out and the
soldiers departed, the travelers falling to with a relish. At
a station beyond, the dishes were removed by other soldiers.
Then the train rolled slowly on its way.

"There is much in our travel facilities that I shall have to beg
you to excuse," said Captain Ribaut rather wistfully. "France
is not what it was, not even in the matter of its railways."

"France is not what she was," retorted Major Wells quickly, "because,
glorious as she, was, she has gone up infinitely higher in the
human scale. Could any other country in the world have stood
the ravages of war so long and still live and contain so brave
and resolute a people? Never mind your railways, Captain. It
is the people, not the railways, who make a country. Your French
people compel our constant and most willing admiration."

At another railway station, as the train halted, and the guard
opened the door b