They had covered themselves with glory, for in addition to the D. S. C. bestowed on Jerry Hopkins, Ned and Bob had received honorable mention, and their company was one picked out for signal honor, the three boys sharing in the general praise. “I wonder how things are going back in Cresville,” mused Ned, after a period of silence on the part of himself and Jerry. “That’s queer! I was just thinking that same thing myself,” the taller lad exclaimed. “It will seem mighty quiet after the hail-storms we’ve been through.” “Hail-storms is right,” agreed Ned Slade. “But it can’t be too quiet for me. All I want to do is to sit under a tree back of the house, with plenty of books and magazines to read, clean clothes--real clean clothes--to wear, a bath-tub where I know where it is, and----” “Something to eat!” interrupted a voice behind him, and, turning, Ned and Jerry beheld their stout chum, Bob Baker, who smilingly held out some sandwiches. “Running true to form,” murmured Ned, as he accepted one, and also a bit of chocolate candy his friend extended. “How’d you manage to do it, Bob?” “Oh, my hypnotic eye. Just told one of the cooks I had to have something if they didn’t want the captain to read the service for burial at sea. And the cook allowed he didn’t want that to happen so soon after we’d got started. This is the result,” and Bob began munching on his share of the auxiliary rations, an example followed by Ned and Jerry. “Am I right?” mumbled Bob, between bites. “Right-O, Chunky!” murmured Jerry. “This touches the right spot.” “Do you accept my amendment regarding the necessities you require on reaching home, Ned?” asked Bob, after a period of eloquent silence. “Amendment accepted, all in favor say ‘aye!’” exclaimed Ned, adding, a moment later: “The ayes have it!” “Didn’t see anything of Professor Snodgrass, did you?” asked Jerry of his chums, as they disposed of the last of the sandwiches and chocolate Bob had procured in some mysterious way. “No,” answered Ned. “The last I saw of him was when he had seen to it that Gladys Petersen and Dorothy Gibbs were safely on their way home and he was packing up his pictures and specimens of bugs and things to ship to the college.” “He said he might possibly join us on this transport,” said Bob. “And he may be here, for all we know. Looks as if everybody I ever met in France is on board.” “Not that pretty little girl with the black hair and brown eyes you were so fond of in the restaurant--she isn’t here, is she?” asked Jerry. “Oh, cut it out!” growled Bob. “You know what I mean.” “But did she know what _you_ meant?” asked Ned pointedly. “You know you never could get the hang of the French words, and she used to rip them out like a drygoods clerk tearing off a yard of muslin.” “Say, if you fellows think I’m going to rustle grub for you, and then have you insult me, you’ve got another guess and a half coming!” cried Bob hotly--so hotly, in fact, that Jerry quickly interposed.