It was a far cry to the
crimson-stained battlefields of France.
"No school to-morrow," said Hugh finally.
"That's true," exclaimed Bob. "I had forgotten that this is Friday."
"Nothing to worry about," said Hugh. "No lessons to prepare and as far as
I am concerned I'd just as soon stay up all night."
"We ought to have baseball practice to-morrow," said Bob. "Somehow I've
lost all interest in it though; this war is more exciting to me."
"If we could only do something," sighed Hugh bitterly.
"Where do you suppose those soldiers went?"
"Out for a hike probably. They looked fine, didn't they?"
Bob said nothing; both boys were busy with their thoughts and walked
along in silence for some distance. Presently the steel span of the great
bridge across the Molton River loomed ahead of them in the darkness.
"There's the bridge," Bob exclaimed.
It appeared ghostly in the dark, the big steel girders taking on weird
and fantastic shapes. A train rushed across its span, roaring and
throwing a shower of sparks high into the air.
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