"I was on a bridge detail yesterday," answered Bert gloomily. "We were loading some pilings to be hauled up to a bridge, and I was on the wagon, placing them as they were shoved up to me. They were all greasy with mud, and I--well, I was thinking about some other things, and I stepped on a slippery hunk of mud. I went down; then one of the pilings rolled over when my foot struck it, and went on my ankle." "Gee, that's hard luck!" "I'd just as soon sprain a dozen ankles," answered Bert. "That isn't the hard luck." "What do you mean?" asked Tom. Bert looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. "No," he said. "I can't tell you. It's something we were planning to do, and"--he motioned towards his ankle--"here I am. Perhaps I'll tell you later." The flap of the tent was pushed aside and the Captain entered. He stood for a moment looking regretfully at Bert. "I'm sorry," he said, "but the doctor says it can't be done. Too bad!" Bert glared at his ankle. "Well, sir, if it can't be done, it just can't." Tom watched the two men, wondering what thoughts were in their minds. What was this mysterious plan that was ending so badly? The Captain spoke at last: "It's nice that you have your cousin here to keep you company while you're waiting for your ankle to heal." "He'll be with me longer than that, Captain. He's come to enlist." "Good!" exclaimed Captain Moffat. He turned to Tom. "I 'll be glad to have you, my boy!" "And I'll be glad to be with you." "Sir!" corrected Bert. "You'll have to learn to say 'sir' in the army." "Yes--sir!" replied Tom. The Captain smiled: "What's your name?" "Burns, sir. Tom Burns." "And how old are you!" "Eighteen, sir." "Young," commented the Captain, "but you look strong enough to stand the life." He put out his hand. "I'm glad to have you. We need men these days, and we can always handle a few recruits. You can stay here with Corporal Brewster until you're assigned to a squad. I'll have some bedding sent down here for you to use until you draw your kit." He started out, then paused. "Don't be too disappointed, Brewster. There'll be other chances." "Keep me in mind for the first chance, Captain." "I'll promise you that." "Thank you, sir," said Bert. "Do you know who will take my place?" "Not yet," replied Captain Moffat. "I'll have to select a man." He left the tent, his heavy sword clanking as he walked. Tom resumed his seat beside Bert. "What is this scheme of yours, Bert?" he asked. "Can't you tell me? Is it a secret?" Bert considered the matter for nearly a minute, while Tom watched him intently. "Yes, it's a secret," replied Bert; then he added, "But I'll tell you." "If it's a military secret, perhaps you'd better not. Of course I wouldn't tell anyone, but...."