"There's a bag of trench foot powder missing," he said. "Have any of you chaps seen anything of it?" "Not guilty," returned Bart. "Though the way my feet feel it wouldn't do them a bit of harm to have some of that powder on them right now." A sudden light dawned upon Frank. "Say, Tony!" he exclaimed, "let's see the bag you got that flour from." Tony complied and brought forth from one of his receptacles a large paper bag which was two thirds full. Frank seized it and turned it around to see what was stamped on the other side. Then he almost dropped the bag in a wild fit of hilarity. "No wonder Tony couldn't make his dough!" he exclaimed, when he could speak. "Some chump in the supply department has handed him out a bag of foot powder when he asked for flour." He showed the others the marking on the bag, and their merriment equaled his own, while Tony alternately glowered and grinned. He had begun to think that somebody had cast on him the "evil eye," so dreaded by his countrymen, and he was relieved to find that his plight was due to natural causes. Yet the thought of all that wasted effort stirred him to resentment. "That's one on you, Tony, old boy!" chuckled Billy, with a poke in the ribs. "It's lucky the dough wouldn't stick," laughed Frank. "There wouldn't have been much nourishment in that kind of bread." "Dat guy a bonehead," asserted Tony, as he scraped his board with vigor. "A vera beeg bonehead." The boys assented and passed on laughing. "And now for grub!" exclaimed Billy. "Oh, boy, maybe it won't taste good!" "I guess we've earned our breakfast, all right," said Bart. "I can stand a whole lot of filling up," observed Tom. "Talk about exercise before breakfast to get you an appetite. We've sure had enough of it this morning." "I never ran so fast in my life," declared Billy. "A Marathon runner would have had nothing on me." "We must have covered the space between those trenches in about twenty seconds," agreed Bart. "Well, as long as we weren't running in the wrong direction it was all right," grinned Tom. "The Boches haven't seen our backs yet, and here's hoping it will be some time before they'll have that treat," said Frank with a laugh. They ate like famished wolves and then threw themselves on their bunks to get a long sleep in preparation for the strenuous night that lay before them. And so used had they already become to roaring of cannon and whining of bullets and shrieking of shells, that, although the din was almost incessant all through that day, it bothered them not at all. It was nearly dusk when the corporal passed along, giving them a shake that roused them from their slumbers and brought them out of their bunks in a hurry. "Time to get up, boys," said the corporal. "Not that we're going to start out right away. But we've got quite a job before us and I want you to have plenty of time to think over your instructions and have them sink in."