"Don't seem too anxious to get away from the front, do they?" said a gunner sitting opposite. "Seems as though the old engine can't bear to leave it. 'Ullo, we've started again. Bet you we don't go further'n that little bridge along there." "It's a bet!" said Bill. "'Ere, Alf, wake up an' 'old the stakes." With keen interest they watched the bridge coming nearer. At last they rattled across it in a leisurely manner. "I win," said Bill. "'And over, Alf." "On'y just, though," said the gunner with a rueful grin, as the train stopped once more with a grinding of brakes. "'Ere, I'm tired o' this bloomin' train. Come out an' stretch yer legs a bit, Alf." "Don't get left be'ind," advised the gunner. "I want to win my franc back." They sat down by the side of the track. "Some train!" said Alf, breaking a long silence. "Perishin'," answered Bill. "But it's a bit better'n doin' them blinkin' fatigues for the sergeant, eh?" "You bet!" The two men had spent a very wearing week. Wherever they went the cold disapproving eye of Lieutenant Donaldson seemed to be upon them; and they had been constrained to live a life of painful and laborious virtue. Sergeant Lees, divining their feelings, had taken shameful advantage of them with a view (he explained) to keeping them out of mischief. As a consequence they had for the past week lived in a giddy social whirl of ration-parties, carrying-parties and similar entertainments. But relieved as they were at having started their journey, they were not beyond chafing at the dilatory methods of the train. At no time did it travel at much above a walking pace; and it was liable at any time and for no apparent reason to abandon all attempts to proceed. It would stand miserably for minutes together, and when it moved on, it did so without warning--a habit which, in a more energetic train, might have proved annoying. "Come on," said Alf suddenly. "Train's starting." "No 'urry," Bill grunted placidly. He got up, stretched himself and trotted leisurely along the train till he came to his own carriage, and swung himself in. "'Ow about another bet?" said the gunner as they appeared. "A franc we don't pass that church over there this spasm." "Righto. But you'll win--it must be 'arf-a-mile from 'ere." "Well, if we're goin' to get to Blighty at all this week we'll 'ave to do a 'arf-mile stretch now an' again, you know." But Bill's prophecy proved correct. Long before the church was reached he had handed back his newly-won franc to the gunner and, in sheer irritable restlessness, insisted on the somnolent Alf leaving the train once more. "What makes me sick," he said, "is to think of that 'ouse in Blighty all ready an' waitin' for us, an' beer an' drinks, an' 'ere we are as dry as a bone in a 'owlin' French desert." "Tell you what, then," answered Alf, struck with an idea. "What's to prevent us slippin' away be'ind that bridge an' lettin' the train go on without us?"