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Other travellers followed the Fizzer, and the cooking lessons proceeded until the fine art of making "puff de looneys," sinkers, and doughboys had been mastered, and then, before the camp had time to grow monotonous, the staff appeared with a few of the station pups.

They had known that the Adjutant would find water somewhere. He was the man the doughboys called "one game little guy," because he was so fearless in going into No Man's Land after the wounded, so indefatigable in accomplishing his purpose against all odds, so forgetful of self.

"Fwat sinse in the ould man bodderin' us?" grumbled Corporal Kennedy, a tall Fenian dragoon from the British army. "Sure, ain't it as plain as the sun and faith the same's not plain this dirthy mornin' that there's no work for cavalry the day, barrin' it's escortin' the doughboys' prisoners, if they take any? bad 'cess to the job.

Never waiting for the dawn, after a few hours' rest at Beaver Spring, the sturdy doughboys had eagerly followed their skilled and trusted leader all the hours from eleven, stumbling, but never halting even for rest or rations, and at last had found the trail four miles below in the depths of the cañon.

"Because the money's gone," said Jimmy, tragically. In France, three thousand miles away from home, with their army pay uncertain, ready cash meant much to our doughboys. "Gone! Did you lose it?" asked Bob, with a reportorial instinct. "No, but Maxwell is gone and the money's gone with him. He's missing," Jimmy hastened to explain. "Been missing since just before we went into action."

"Old Jimmy," their Colonel, had galloped down at them and once along their front; then the command, forming fours from the right front, moved off at a trot through the mud in long procession. "Didn't I know it?" said Kennedy; "it's escortin' the doughboys' prisoners, that's all we're good for this outrageous day. Oh, wirra, wirrasthru! Police duty! and this calls itself a cavalry rigiment.

"The Salvation Army had been apprised by telegraph that the doughboys were playing in hard luck. Presto! Out from Paris came a truck loaded with everything to eat. The truck was unloaded and the boys paid for whatever they wanted with slips of paper signed with their John Hancocks. The Salvation Army lassies asked no questions, but accepted the slips of paper as if they were Uncle Sam's gold.

Let there be more doughboys, more and more, until the last figure had been shot! Jimmie knew, of course, that the policy he had been advocating in America had not tended to that end; if Jimmie in Leesville had had his way, there would have been no doughboys to rescue Jimmy at Chatty Terry! Jimmie was quite clear on that point now, and for the time being the pacifist was dead in him.

Rain, rain, and rain! How it fell on red Virginia that November of '64! How it wore away alertness! The infantry-men whom we used to call "doughboys," for there was always a pretended feud between the riders and the trudgers often seemed going to sleep in the night in their rain-filled holes far beyond the breastworks, each with its little mound of earth thrown up toward the beleaguered town.

And on the railroad detachment American doughboys one day in November were glad to give the Canadian officer complimentary present-arms when he received his ribbon on his chest, evidence of his election to the D. S. O., for gallantry in action.