"You'd better tear that up quick," was Roger's stern advice. "You mustn't carry it around with you. Suppose you got the order to go over the top. You'd go and maybe get killed. Then some Boche might get hold of that paper. It's information, you know." "Oh, I'd tear it up if I knew I was going over," asserted Bob. "You might forget to do it. Better be on the safe side and can it." Grumbling a little, Bob reduced the fateful paper to bits. "I guess I won't gather much data in this dump," was his regretful opinion. "If I write it in billet and try to send it home to Mrs. Blaise, the censor'll probably can it. I'll have to keep it all in my head. If a shell takes my head off, it'll be a great loss to the literary world and a greater one to Bobby." "When the war's over and you get back to the U. S. you can scribble all you want to and no one will stop you," consoled Jimmy. "Won't that be nice?" "Yes, when it is and when I do is something to gamble on," jeered Bob. "Another such shindig as this morning and Bobby may be taking a little trip West. I'm going to sleep and forget this pesky old ditch for a while." Awakened toward the middle of the afternoon to relieve men who had been on duty, the five Brothers were kept busy by various tasks which they were called upon to perform. Quiet still prevailing, evening drew on with no signs of immediate hostilities on the part of the foe. All day they had prudently kept the smoke curtain across their lines in order to conceal their activities from the Americans. Shortly before dark Jimmy Blaise was set aquiver with excitement when he received information that he had been chosen to make one of a scouting party who were to go out on a scouting expedition into No Man's Land. The party was to start out at ten o'clock and creep across to the German lines in order to discover whether the Boches had repaired their wire entanglements or had still left lanes in them, preparatory to making a raid that night. They were also instructed to keep their eyes and ears open for anything else that might fall to their lot to see or hear. Realizing that this scouting duty might be his last, Jimmy sought out his bunkies for a farewell word. Though it was still light, the order "stand to" had gone forth and half of the occupants of the front-line trench ranged along the fire step with bayonets fixed and ready. The other half were still resting in the dugouts. "I'm going out as a scout," he informed Bob, who was nearest to him. "You don't say! Take me along!" "Wish I could. I don't know who all is in the gang. Lieutenant Redmond's in command," Jimmy replied. "I've got to beat it and see the fellows before dark. Now will be my only chance to get a word with 'em. We're to start out at ten. See you again in a few minutes."