in the ring of steel, and nothing decisive took
place. In the minds of many, conviction grew that it might be years
before the war, brought about by the Germans, would come to an end.

The soldiers at the front knew little of this. I, who have received
letters from more than one of them, learned that they, who were in the
very thick of the fighting, knew practically nothing of the trend of
the war. The interest of each regiment was largely confined to the
little space it occupied.

All the soldiers knew was that they were advancing slowly, and that
instead of the German army's reaching Paris, it was steadily going
backward.

Tragedy ceased to be tragedy, because it became so commonplace; death
was an everyday event, and men grew almost careless of it. "It may be
my turn to-day," they said one to another, with a grim laugh; and some
of them, even when they were wounded, jested about their sufferings.

This, however, Bob could not help noticing; he was more and more
trusted by his Colonel, and, although he was in a subordinate position,
work of importance was often entrusted to him. Especially was this the
case after an incident, which, in one form or another, was repeated all
along the battle-line.

One morning a young officer came to him saying that he had been
requested to obtain information which Bob had gathered the day before,
and concerning which a new line of action had to be taken.

This young officer was an utter stranger to Bob, but, seeing he
possessed the necessary papers, he spoke to him freely.

"We had a great day yesterday," he said.

"We shall have a greater to-morrow," was Bob's reply.

A few minutes later the two were eagerly discussing what would probably
take place, and Bob found himself giving away information of great
importance.

"I wish I could talk German," said the young officer presently. "I had
heaps of chances whilst I was at school, but, like a fool, I neglected
them."

"Why, what would you do?" asked Bob.

"I would find my way to the enemies' camp," was the reply; "and I would
learn what they are up to; it would be a great advantage to us. It is
said that our lines are filled with German spies."

"I suppose spies are necessary," was Bob's reply; "but, somehow, spying
does not fall in with our ideas; still, I suppose we have to use them."

"Those Germans are such mean devils," was Captain Rivers' retort;
"there's no dirty work they aren't prepared to do; still, if I