"It seems that this fellow, who told me the story, and another chap, had been detailed to the Divisional Intelligence Department, and were hanging around Division Headquarters waiting for something to happen. "Now here's the story as he reeled it off to me: "'About three kilos behind Divisional Headquarters was the old French village of B----. One of our important roads ran through it. This road was greatly used by our troops for bringing up supplies and ammunition for the front line. It was also used by large numbers of troops when relieving batteries in the fire sector. "'Of course, on account of this road being in range of the German guns, it could only be used at night; otherwise, the enemy airmen and observation balloons would get wise and it would only be a short time before the road would be shelled, causing many casualties. "'For the last ten days, reports had been received at Divisional Headquarters that every time troops passed a certain point on this road, marked by an old church, they were sure to click heavy shell-fire from the Boches. On nights when no troops passed through, on the other hand, there would be very little shelling, if any. "'Upon the first two or three of these reports, we put it down as a strange coincidence, but when the fifth report of this nature reached us, it was evident to us that a spy was at work, and that in some mysterious way the information of the movement of our troops was communicated by him to the enemy. "'Myself and another fellow, who had been working with me for the last two weeks, were assigned to the task of discovering and apprehending this spy. To us it seemed an impossible job, as there were no clues to work upon. As is usual, our General, Old Pepper, called us in, and said: "'"There is a spy working in the village of B----; go get him." "'Foolishly I butted in and asked for further information. I got it, all right. With a lowering look which made me tremble, he roared: "'"Go and dig up your own clues. What are you with the Intelligence Department for? Intelligence Department! It ought to be called Brainless Department, if you two are a sample of the rest." "'Somehow or other we didn't stop to argue with Old Pepper.'" At this point, Sailor Bill butted in: "Blime me, he's just like an Admiral we had in our Navy, this old boy." A chorus of, "Oh, shut up, you're in the Army now," cut off Bill's story. They knew Sailor Bill. With an indignant glance around the circle, he relapsed into silence. Curly exclaimed, "To hell with your Admiral; do you want to hear this story? If you do, shut up and let me tell it." "Go on, Curly, never mind; he's harmless," ejaculated Happy. Curly carried on with: