Sentries, whose bayonet-tipped rifles leaned against the parapet, saluted and then grasped his hand. Subalterns and captains hailed him as a brother; and so did sergeants, with a "sir" or two thrown in. As Dave passed on his embarrassed but triumphant way down the trench his heart pounded as no peril of war had ever set it pounding. No emperor had ever known greater ache and uplift of glory than this grand conflagration in the heart and brain of Lieut. David Hammer, Canadian Infantry. He visited his scouts; and they seemed as pleased at his "pips" as if each one of them had got leave to London. Even Sergt. Frank Sacobie's dark and calm visage showed flickers of emotion. Corp. Hiram Sill, D. C. M., who visioned everything in a large and glowing style, saw in his mind's eye the King in Buckingham Palace agreeing with some mighty general, all red and gold and ribbons, that this heroic and deserving young man should certainly be granted a commission for the fine work he was doing with the distinguished scouts of that very fine regiment. "I haven't a doubt that was the way of it," said Old Psychology. "People with jobs like that are trained from infancy to grasp details; and I bet King George has the name of everyone of us on the tip of his tongue. You can bet your hat he isn't one to give away Distinguished Conduct Medals without knowing what he is about." Hiram joined in the laughter that followed his inspiring statements; not that he thought he had said anything to laugh at, but merely to be sociable. That "show" was to be a big one--a brigade affair with artillery coöperation. The battalion on the right was to send out two parties, one to bomb the opposite trench and the other to capture and demolish a hostile sap head--and together to raise Old Ned in general and so hold as much of the enemy's attention as possible from the main event. The battalion on the left was to put on an exhibition of rifle, machine-gun and trench-mortar fire that would assuredly keep the garrison opposite occupied with its own affairs. As for the artillery, it had already worked through two thirds of its elaborate programme. Four nights ago it had put on a shoot at two points in the hostile wire and front line, three hundred yards apart, short but hot. Then it had lifted to the support and reserve trenches. Three nights ago it had done much the same things, but not at the same hours, and on a wider frontage. The enemy, sure of being raided, had turned on his lights and his machine guns on both occasions--on nothing. He could do nothing then toward repairing his wire, for after our guns had churned up his entanglements our machine guns played upon the scene and kept him behind his parapet. The batteries had been quiet two nights ago, and Fritz, expecting a raid in force, had lost his nerve entirely. Our eighteen pounders had lashed him at noon the next day, and again at sunset and again at eleven o'clock; and so he had sat up all night again with his nerves.