t isn't good news
I don't know what is!"

"That's the best news you've given us since you said the soup kitchens
were on their way the day after the big fight," declared Schnitz. "How
much is he hurt?"

"Well, really not any at all, except for some bad bruises, and he
says they'll be better in a day or so. No internal injuries that the
doctors can find, and outside of the bruises and scratches--and he has
them in plenty--he's as good as any of us."

"But how in the world did it happen?" asked Bob. "Didn't you see him
with his head all caved in and his spine broken?"

"Well, I thought I did," admitted Jimmy. "But the fact is that the
blood on his face, as I guess I told you before, came from a man who
was killed by a shell, right in front of Iggy. And that numb feeling
of his legs was because they were both 'asleep'. You know, when you
lie too long on your arm, or keep your leg in a cramped position. He
got all over that after he'd been in bed a few hours.

"You see the stuff that caved in on him, after the shell exploded,
formed a sort of arch over his head, and took the weight off his face.
He'd have been dead except for that. But he's practically all right,
and will be back with us soon. He's crazy to see you fellows. I
thought he'd kiss me, the way some of the Frenchies do when they get
excited."

"Well, we'll go to see him as soon as we get leave," decided Bob.

"Don't think I'm asking this because of the money involved," said
Schnitz, a little later, "though we all agree that it's fine and
generous of you to have offered to whack up. But did you hear anything
of Sergeant Maxwell?"

"Not a word," declared Jimmy, "nor the missing five thousand francs,
either. Both have mysteriously disappeared."

"What's the official report on the serg.?" asked Roger.

"Just missing--that's all," said Jimmy, simply. "I made inquiries
about him as soon as I had located Iggy in a hospital. Sergeant
Maxwell is down as missing. Of course, there's no report about my
money. In fact, we five, and the serg. himself, are the only ones who
know about it."

"Missing," mused Bob. "Does it say without official leave, or anything
like that?"

"No, it doesn't," went on the owner of the five thousand francs. "He
isn't classed as a deserter--yet."

"Do you think he will be?" Franz wanted to know, impressed by
something in Jimmy's voice.

The latter did not reply for a moment. And then he felt that he must
not only be generous but