quick mechanical response, the departure of one group after
another, the thought of that aviator alighting behind the village, the
sight of the great, ugly tanks and the big spool aroused his patriotism
and his craving for adventure as nothing else had in all the months of
his service. He was nearer to the trenches than ever before.

"If you're riding to Clermont," he heard a soldier say, apparently to
him, "you'd better take the south road; turn out when you get to Airian.
The other's full of shell holes from the old trench line."

"Best way is to go down through Estrees and follow the road back across
the old trench line," said another.

Tom listened absently. He knew he could find the best way, that was his
business, but he did not want to go to Clermont. It seemed to him that
he was always going away from the war while others were going toward it.
While these boys were rushing forward he would be rushing backward. That
was always the way.

"There's a lot of skeletons in those old trenches. You can follow the
ditches almost down to Paris."

"They won't send him farther than Creil," another said. "The wires are
up all the way from Creil down."

"You never can tell whether they'll stay up or not--not with this
seventy-five mile bean-shooter Fritzie's playing with. Ever been to
Paris, kid?"

"No, but I s'pose I'll be sent there now--maybe," Tom answered.

"They'll keep you moving up this way, all right. You were picked for
this sector--d'you know that?"

"I don't know why."

"Don't get rattled easy--that's what I heard."

This was gratifying if it was true. Tom had not known why he had been
sent so far and he had wondered.

Presently a Signal Corps captain came out of Headquarters, spoke briefly
with two officers who were near the big wire spool, and then turned
toward the bench on which Tom was sitting. His neighbors arose and
saluted and he did the same.

"Never been under fire, I suppose?" said the captain, addressing Tom to
his great surprise.

"Not before the lines, I haven't. The machine I had before this one was
knocked all out of shape by a shell. I was riding from Toul to----"

"All right," interrupted the captain somewhat impatiently. Tom was used
to being interrupted in the midst of his sometimes rambling answers. He
could never learn the good military rule of being brief and explicit.
"How do you feel about going over the top? You don't have to."

"It's just what I was thinking about," sa