"I can guess who was to blame for that," he sputtered angrily to Jimmy. "Eldridge put up that job on me. Bix went away on the same train we did. The other sneak didn't. It's up to him. I know it." "Funny he didn't do the same to the rest of us," commented Jimmy. "Oh, he wasn't particular as to which of us got it," snapped Bob. "Probably he just dumped those papers and beat it in a hurry. Makes me sick. It's the first time I've got it in the neck since I came to Sterling. I don't mind the detail. It's being dished that makes me sore. The worst of it is, I couldn't say a word. Just had to stand and take it from the Sarge." "Oh, well, it's no great disgrace," comforted Jimmy. "Think of poor Schnitz." "I am and I have. Do you realize that his trial is bound to come off before long? According to our manual, thirty days, with an additional ten added if approved by military authorities, is the longest a case can hang fire. I don't know whether that holds good in Schnitz's case. I should think so, though. Anyhow, we've not done a thing for him. We've got to get busy and do something." "What?" Jimmy made a gesture of despair. "I don't know yet, but I do know that it's got to be done mighty soon." Bob shot a baleful glance across the squad room toward Eldridge, who was seated cross-legged on his cot, undoing a small package. "Look at him!" muttered Bob, as the man proceeded to tear the outside wrapper into strips. "More rubbish for Bobby to cart away." Jimmy's eyes followed Bob's. Suddenly he gripped the latter's arm. "Maybe he got that package in the mail. Maybe it's from his home. Maybe----" "Great guns!" exclaimed Bob softly, and swung round, his back toward Eldridge. "Don't let him see you rubbering, Blazes. You've given me a jolt, though. I'm going to watch what he does with those strips of paper and nab 'em. Oh, boy! Why is Bobby on police duty?" The paper presently went into a receptacle at one end of the squad room, provided for that purpose. When supper call sounded, Bob declined to answer it. "You fellows go ahead," he directed. "I don't want any supper. Later on I'll go down to the canteen, and fill up on cakes and milk. This is my chance, and I'm going to take it." The moment the squad room had emptied itself, Bob sped to the rubbish can. Fortunately for him, the scraps of paper he sought were of a dull grayish green, and thus easily distinguished from the rest of the can's contents. Quickly, but thoroughly, he searched, making sure that he had every scrap of the paper he sought in his possession. Too shrewd to attempt to piece them together in the squad room, he wrapped them in a handkerchief, and hurried off to the Y. M. C. A. It was over an hour later when he returned to barracks, his black eyes snapping with triumph. "I know what I know," he exulted, dropping down beside Jimmy, who was seated on his cot. "Come on outside and I'll show you something. Where are the fellows?"