“Any news?” he asked, as Harper handed him the cup of hot coffee for which he had come. Harper looked off to the northward for a moment before he answered. Not that he could see anything but hundreds upon hundreds of men of all branches of the American arms, but he seemed to be conjuring a dismal picture in his imagination as he stood there in silence, seeming not to have heard the question. “Well, are you in a trance?” Tom demanded impatiently. “No,” Harper answered in a peculiar tone, “but I’m wondering just how much longer we’re going to be kept here this way. Of course, we shouldn’t complain or question, but I guess we all feel the same way about it. We’re all anxious to ‘go in,’ and I don’t think it ought to be much longer now.” “What do you mean? What have you heard?” Tom asked, excitedly. “It’s not what I have heard, for that hasn’t been very much. It’s what I have seen, what you have seen, what every man here has seen that makes me feel that the big clash of the war is soon to come, and that we will have a chance to be in it. The concentration of the entire First American Army in this sector isn’t for the purpose of giving us a vacation, and after all I guess we can best show our patriotism and loyalty right now by being ready for any emergency, rather than grumbling because Foch and Pershing haven’t asked us out to lunch to get our opinion on their plans.” “Righto!” exclaimed Tom, with just that emphasis upon the word which the English Tommies had taught the Yanks. “Yes,” continued Harper, “I’m satisfied that we are down for a big part on the program. Look what our men have been doing further north since June 11th, when they captured Belleau Wood and took three hundred prisoners. “And just review all of that and last month. On June 19th our men crossed the Marne, near Château-Thierry. On June 29th it was a raid on Montdidier. July 2nd they captured Vaux. On the glorious 4th word came of American success in the Vosges. A month later Fismes was taken, and now—look at this.” Harper liked nothing better than to spring a surprise—a happy surprise—on his friends. He pulled from under his blouse a late copy of “Stars and Stripes,” the official newspaper of the American Expeditionary forces. It was dated September 3rd, and across the first page, under bold, inspiring headlines, was the stirring story of the capture of the plain of Juvigny, north of Soissons. With nothing of boastfulness about it, it told in vigorous language of the heroic valor of the American troops; how, behind a creep-barrage, they had steadily advanced until, with a final lifting of the artillery screen, the men, singing, shouting, cheering, advanced into open battle with the Hun hosts. It was a story to stir the blood of any patriotic American, particularly one who was himself under arms and only awaiting the opportunity to perform like service in behalf of his country and humanity. Tom Walton read it to the last word before he spoke.