Hours later, toward sundown, Lieutenants Whitcomb and Richards walked from the army kitchen to the captain’s tent, but paused without for a chat. Whitcomb, now first officer of the company under Captain Lowden, was talking: “I know just how it felt, Don; been hit there boxing. Hurts for a little while; you did mighty well to keep up under it as you did. Well, news for you: The captain wants another lieutenant and with your commission you fit in without more red tape. So he sent a messenger to Colonel Walton asking for your transfer, and now that you’ve landed that spy, they’ve granted it. So tomorrow, old scout, we go on again together.” “Nothing could tickle me more, Herb! I guess I know enough of this military business now to carry on.” CHAPTER XXIV FAST WORK IT is the unexpected that often happens, in battle as well as in everyday life. Captain Lowden had given orders to his men to cease advancing a little before darkness set in and to hold the ground they had gained against counter-assaults, a plan carried out by the 77th Division wherever the fighting was so severe as to show that the Germans equaled or exceeded the Americans in numbers and were most bitterly contesting the ground. About twenty men of a depleted platoon were now with the Captain and operating directly under him. With the setting of the sun they began to prepare a hasty camp, putting up a few small tents, all used for the temporary relief of the wounded. A messenger had been sent after stretcher bearers and several men had been detailed to roughly clear an old roadway that led out to the nearest approach for ambulances. But although there was much hustle and bustle about the camp, it really bore a remarkable contrast to the daytime scenes of men in action and of those supporting and aiding them in every way. In a little while the activities quieted down and the men began to seek places of rest, a few pickets being sent forward, as usual, and others detailed to remain on guard against an attack of the enemy. Captain Lowden went back to the hospital tents. Needing sleep more than anything else, Lieutenants Whitcomb and Richards selected ponchos and rolled up on beds of leaves, dropping off instantly into perfect oblivion. Don meant to ask something about Gill, who had suddenly acted as though ill and had been sent to the rear, but the question died before the boy could frame the words. He would not have got a reply had he spoken. The hours dragged on for those awake. Private Neeley had been hit in the hand; so slight a wound that he did not report it. But now it commenced to hurt and gaining his corporal’s consent he went to the rear to have the wound dressed. That done, he returned, coming alone through the short stretch of woods between the camp and the _abri_. It was not very dark and now and then distant flares brightened the surroundings a little, even slightly penetrating the forest.