He had a very good reason for wanting to be in that particular platoon, and there were men already in it who had no particular reason for remaining in it instead of going to some other platoon; so--as Sill very justly remarked to Dick, to Sacobie, to Sergt. Hammer, to Lieut. Scammell and to Capt. Long--he did not see why he could not be where he wanted to be. Friendship for Frank Sacobie and Dick Starkley and admiration for Sergt. Hammer and Lieut. Scammell were the reasons he gave for wanting to be in that platoon. "He seems a friendly chap," said the adjutant to Mr. Scammell. "Will you take him? If so, you can let the Smith with the red head go over to Number Three, where he will be with a whole grist of lads from his own part of the country. What d'ye say? He looks smart and willing to me." "Sure I'll take him," said Mr. Scammell. "He says he admires me." So Hiram Sill became a member of Number Two Platoon. He worked with the energy of a tiger and with the good nature of a lamb. He talked a great deal, but always with a view to acquiring or imparting knowledge. When he found that his military duties and the cultivation of friendships did not use up all his time and energy, he set himself to the task of ascertaining how many Americans were enrolled in the First and Second Canadian divisions. Then indeed he became a busy man; and still his cry continued to be that soldiering was a business. CHAPTER IV PRIVATE SILL ACTS ON the night of September 15, 1915, the brigade of which the 26th Battalion was a unit crossed from Folkstone to Boulogne without accident. All the ranks were in the highest spirits, fondly imagining that the dull routine of training was dead forever and that the practice of actual warfare was as entertaining as dangerous. The brigade moved up by way of the fine old city of Saint Omer and the big Flemish town of Hazebrouck. By the fourth day after landing in France the whole brigade was established in the forward area of operations, along with the other brigades of the new division. On the night of the 19th the battalion marched up and went into hutments and billets close behind the Kemmel front. That night, from the hill above their huts, the men from New Brunswick beheld for the first time that fixed, fire-pulsing line beyond which lay the menace of Germany. The battalion went in under cover of darkness, and by midnight had taken over from the former defenders the headquarters of companies, the dugouts in the support trenches and the sentry posts in the fire trench. There were Dick Starkley and his comrades holding back the Huns from the throat of civilization. It was an amazing and inspiring position to be in for the first time. In front of them, just beneath and behind the soaring and falling star shells and Very lights, crouched the most ruthless and powerful armies of the world.