“That's why Strasburg made me think of him,” broke in Al, tremendously excited. “'Cause it was so picturesque like.... But honest, I've tried hard to make good in this army. I've done everything a feller could. An' all I did was to get into a cushy job in the regimental office.... But Dan, Gawd, he may even be an officer by this time.” “No, he's not that,” said Andrews. “Look here, you ought to keep quiet with that hand of yours.” “Damn my hand. Oh, it'll heal all right if I forget about it. You see, my foot slipped when they shunted a car I was just climbing into, an'...I guess I ought to be glad I wasn't killed. But, gee, when I think that if I hadn't been a fool about that girl I might have been home by now....” “The Chink says they're putting up barricades on the Avenue Magenta.” “That means business, kid!” “Business nothin',” shouted Slippery from where he and Chrisfield leaned over the dice on the tile floor in front of the window. “One tank an' a few husky Senegalese'll make your goddam socialists run so fast they won't stop till they get to Dijon.... You guys ought to have more sense.” Slippery got to his feet and came over to the bed, jingling the dice in his hand. “It'll take more'n a handful o' socialists paid by the Boches to break the army. If it could be broke, don't ye think people would have done it long ago?” “Shut up a minute. Ah thought Ah heard somethin',” said Chrisfield suddenly, going to the window. They held their breath. The bed creaked as Al stirred uneasily in it. “No, warn't anythin'; Ah'd thought Ah'd heard people singin'.” “The Internationale,” cried Al. “Shut up,” said Chrisfield in a low gruff voice. Through the silence of the room they heard steps on the stairs. “All right, it's only Smiddy,” said Slippery, and he threw the dice down on the tiles again. The door opened slowly to let in a tall, stoop-shouldered man with a long face and long teeth. “Who's the frawg?” he asked in a startled way, with one hand on the door knob. “All right, Smiddy; it ain't a frawg; it's a guy Chris knows. He's taken his uniform off.” “'Lo, buddy,” said Smiddy, shaking Andrews's hand. “Gawd, you look like a frawg.” “That's good,” said Andrews. “There's hell to pay,” broke out Smiddy breathlessly. “You know Gus Evans and the little black-haired guy goes 'round with him? They been picked up. I seen 'em myself with some M. P.'s at Place de la Bastille. An' a guy I talked to under the bridge where I slep' last night said a guy'd tole him they were goin' to clean the A. W. O. L.'s out o' Paris if they had to search through every house in the place.” “If they come here they'll git somethin' they ain't lookin' for,” muttered Chrisfield. “I'm goin' down to Nice; getting too hot around here,” said Slippery. “I've got travel orders in my pocket now.” “How did you get 'em?”