The German guns were shelling the communication trenches to prevent the British supports from coming up, and whizz-bangs were bursting all about them. But they had no time to pay attention to details of that kind--the one desire was to get on and into the front line. At last they turned a corner, and plunged into the thick of a hand-to-hand struggle. Neither Alf nor Bill had a very coherent memory of what happened in the next few minutes. They remember heaving and hacking and stabbing at innumerable greasy Huns. Then suddenly the Huns seemed to melt away and disappear; the two men realized dimly that the trench was cleared and the enemy in flight, and they sat down to rest, feeling dizzy and badly winded. But as soon as the raiding party were clear of the British trenches the guns began again. A whizzbang dropped into the trench where the two friends were sitting, and burst. That was the last thing that Bill Grant knew until he woke some days later to find himself in a Casualty Clearing Station. A Sister came towards him. "Awake at last," she said cheerily. He stared stupidly at her. "Where am I?" he said. "Where's Alf 'Iggins?" "Next bed, ole son," said a weak voice. "Leg broke." Bill pondered this information for a space. Then a thought struck him and he sat up with a jerk. The Sister came over to him. "You must lie down and keep quiet," she said. "The Button!" exclaimed Bill fiercely. The Sister looked anxious. "There, there!" she said, in a soothing tone. "Just lie down and be quiet. You were knocked silly by a shell, you know, but you're all right now. Lie down at once." "I want my Button," he reiterated, struggling with her. "Gimme my Button, an' I'll lie down." The Sister turned to Alf. "What does he mean?" she asked quietly. "I believe he's wandering." "No, no!" said Alf. "The Button. It's most important." "Well," replied the Sister, mystified but relieved that Bill was apparently not raving after all. "Your tunic was in such a mess it was burnt, but I kept your buttons and the things in your pockets. I'll get them, if you'll lie still." She produced a collection of miscellaneous rubbish. Bill sorted out the buttons and rubbed each one in turn feverishly, forgetful of the probable effect on the Sister if Eustace had suddenly appeared. But he did not. "Duds, all of 'em," said Bill dismally. "Lumme! What did I do with it.... I know!" He shouted in sudden inspiration. "I put it in me right-'and trouser-pocket. Sister, do please 'ave a look in me trousers. Please!" The two men waited in a tense silence till she returned. "Now," she said severely. "No more nonsense, please. You must both lie down and keep quiet. There's nothing in your trousers pockets except a large hole." THE END