ons shouted, waved flags,
threw their hats into the air and sang. And the Americans, hanging from
the car windows, and crowded out upon the platforms and steps, returned
the demonstration with something for good measure.

From this point forward the journey constantly was punctuated by scenes
and incidents significant of war. Here was an ambulance and Red Cross
unit mobilizing for removal to the very heart of smoke and battle and
bloodshed; there stood a row of houses whose battered roofs and
tottering walls testified to a ruthless aerial night raid of the
Germans.

It fired the blood of the Americans as they were reminded that these
meagre evidences of Boche barbarity were as nothing compared to the
deliberate and vicious ruin wrought in Belgium and northern France.

Dover at last--the channel port which marked the beginning of the last
lap of their journey to France! The boys hardly could wait until the
train came to a stop, to get a glimpse of the water, across which lay
the scene of the bloodiest war in all history--a war in which they were
to take an important part.

"They say this channel is awfully choppy," said Slim apprehensively, as
they left the car. "Do you think, Jerry, that we're likely to get
seasick again?"

"Don't know," responded Jerry, also somewhat dubiously, "but there's one
consolation about it--it's only a short trip."

Never had the three boys from Brighton anticipated such co-ordinated
efficiency in the workings of a war machine. They had expected long
delays, frequent disappointments and protracted periods of training
before they should reach the front-line trenches.

Instead, they experienced consistent progress, many pleasant surprises
and few disappointments; and now, upon reaching Dover, they soon learned
that if it was at all possible they would board a transport that same
night for the French side of the channel.

From the train they were marched to a great cantonment on the edge of
the city. The procession there was like a triumphant march, with throngs
lined along the streets to cheer them as they passed.

For more than a year before, enemy propaganda in the United States had
constantly preached that England was weary of the war. This did not look
like it. The very atmosphere breathed the spirit of "carry on," of
renewed determination to fight to a finish.

Amid such a spirit the Brighton boys reached the cantonment and after a
hasty roll-call sat down to what they one and a