The boys were only too glad now to relinquish their cots in the general ward and take a room in the convalescent ward. From that place they would wander out and watch the great processions of soldiers as they passed on to the front. "I wonder why it is that we don't see any French soldiers around here lately?" remarked Alfred. "I was thinking about that very thing," said Ralph. "We must inquire about that." Inquiry developed the fact that the English had been extending their lines, and now occupied the front in that section down to the area over which the French had made their last successful drive. "Do you know where the 14th French battery has gone?" asked Ralph of an attendant, when they returned to the hospital. "I really do not know, but I understand that they are now near Noyen, or in that region," was the reply. A week thereafter the boys, now fully satisfied, left the hospital, and, as the doctor handed them their certificates of discharge, he remarked: "The lieutenant sent your things to us the day they left the ridge. The attendant will get them for you." They had entirely forgotten that they owned anything. The two packages were found intact, together with a note of regret from the lieutenant, and from the men of the 14th battery. It was a gratifying thing to receive, and greatly appreciated by the boys. On the road they walked along toward the reserve camp two miles to the north, during which they met numerous fellow pedestrians, of all sorts, conditions and characteristics. Peddlers, hucksters, dealers in all sorts of wares, tradesmen, a few carpenters with their tools, going and coming, and this over a road which in normal times would not have a dozen visitors during the day. The vast army to the east brought trade to many inhabitants. They were particularly interested in a peddler, who plied his trade with considerable energy. He would push to the front whenever a troop of soldiers appeared, offering his wares, and, after each sale, or when he had completed his canvass of a troop, would swing off his pack, take out the money, and count it. Then, invariably, he would draw out a pencil, note down something on the wrapper in which the money was kept, shoulder his pack, and march on. "That fellow is the most particular man I ever met," remarked Ralph. "I suppose he puts down every sou he receives. He is what I would call a tightwad." "Perhaps not that, but just a trifle careful," responded Alfred. It was an amusing experience to the boys, as they watched his procedure. It was always the same and never varied. The camp was in sight, and they left the road to visit it, but before entering the grounds they sat down to rest, and while there the peddler passed them.