It was dark when Kenneth and Ginger had finished their task. They took their places with their platoon in the firing trench. "Think they’ll have any gas for us to-morrow?" said Ginger. "It’s not very likely," said Kenneth. "The gas the Germans have been using lies low; it would be more useful to us." "Well, why shouldn’t we use it too? What’s the odds whether you’re killed with gas or shrapnel? Gas don’t hurt, I expect, and it’s a deal cleaner." "Upon my word I don’t know," Kenneth replied. "There’s no logic in it. But somehow it goes against the grain. You poison dogs with gas, not men." "Besides, it’s taking an unfair advantage," said Harry. "It depends on the wind--and there’s no crossing over at half-time." The notes of a flute came along the trench from the left. "Stoneway’s at it again," said Ginger. "The fellow can play," remarked Harry. "Good stuff, too. He doesn’t confine himself to the trumpery tunes of the musical comedies. That’s a bit of Mozart." "I’ve heard that tune somewhere," said Ginger reflectively. "I haven’t got much of an ear for music, but I know them twiddles. Why, hang me, I heard ’em when I was in that cellar. Somebody was playing ’em upstairs." "It’s a concerto every flautist knows," said Harry. "The Germans certainly lick us in music." "A pity they’re not satisfied with that," said Kenneth. They listened in silence till the conclusion of the piece, and joined in the general applause. After a short interval the performer began again, now, however, playing detached notes that had neither time nor tune. "Those exercises, again!" said Ginger. "That’s the worst of music. My little Sally is learning the pianner, and she makes me mad sometimes with what she calls the five-finger exercises. ’For mercy’s sake play us a tune,’ says I. ’I’ve got to practise this, Dad,’ says she. ’What’s the good of it?’ says I. ’Teacher says it’s to get my fingers in order,’ says she. Anybody’d think her fingers weren’t the same as other people’s; they’re all right; a very pretty hand she’s got.... He’s stopped, thank goodness! Pass up the word for ’Dolly Grey,’ mates." Silence presently reigned. The men reclined, dozing. "I say, Harry," said Kenneth. "What is it?" replied Harry sleepily. "I’ve been thinking. We might make good use of that lorry." "How?" "Let it loose on the Germans." "Send it down-hill, you mean?" "Yes." "What’s the good? They’d hear it coming and clear out of the way. It might break their wire and a bit of the parapet--hardly enough damage to be worth the fag." Kenneth was silent for a little. Then he roused Harry again. There ensued a long conversation between them, at the conclusion of which Kenneth crept along the trench to find Captain Adams. It was some time before he returned. "The colonel agrees," he said in some excitement. "There’s no time to lose. We’ve got to attack at four o’clock. Wake up, Ginger."