My guess would be that we will go somewhere in the
neighborhood of Epernay--probably to take over a sector patrolled by a
French squadron so that they can be used on the more active front around
Chateau-Thierry or up around Rheims. Hullo! There goes the siren and
here comes the Major. We will know soon enough now."

"I'll wager you a dinner it's another soft spot--no action," Larkin
said.

"Done! You are through with soft spots now."

Major Cowan's quick walk spoke volumes. The pilots shouted derisively at
the sound of the siren, a distressingly noisy contrivance designed to
arouse sleepy pilots and turn them out for dawn patrol.

"Fall in! Fall in!" Mullins began shouting. "You act like a bunch of
sheep! Line up there!"

"Call the roll of officers," Cowan ordered.

A staff sergeant, who had kept his wits sufficiently to rescue the roll
from another headquarters non-com who was packing everything in one of
the trucks, came hurrying forward with the roll. The names were droned
off. The "Here!" that responded to each name was a full commentary on
the mental attitude of the respondent. Yancey, for instance, fairly
shouted his, while Rodd hesitated, seeming to search for an even smaller
word. Carpenter's "here," was little more than a whisper, as might come
from one who was making an admission which he wished circumstances had
ordered otherwise. And the rotund little McWilliams answered in a manner
that convinced McGee that Mac was really wishing he were not here.

McGee and Larkin, not yet carried on the roll, stood to one side,
conscious of the fact that they were still wearing uniforms of the Royal
Flying Corps. They felt like two lost sheep.

"Look at their faces," Red whispered to Larkin. "Faces tell a lot.
They're keen to go, all right, but take Carpenter and McWilliams, for
instance. Scared stiff. They're expecting to meet an entire Hun Circus
between here and--and wherever we are going."

The roll call ended.

"Gentlemen," Major Cowan began, his voice crisp and business-like, "we
have been ordered up to La Ferte sous Jouarre, due southwest of the
Chateau-Thierry salient."

The exclamation of surprise forced him to pause. McGee gave Larkin a dig
in the ribs. "I win," he said. "That's no soft spot."

"But," Major Cowan continued, "for some reason Brigade has seen fit to
divide the journey into two parts. Possibly to permit our trucks to
reach there ahead of us, but more probably because it lacks faith in