"Just what the doctor ordered," exulted Frank, when he saw Stone step out of the door of the monster tank.
"We'll follow you, old man, till the cows come home," called Bart, as the boys crowded around the young operator.
"We'll try to make a broad path for you," laughed Stone, as he returned their greeting cordially.
"When is the show coming off?" asked Billy.
"Almost any time now, I guess," replied Stone. "About all we need is a nice misty morning. It's up to the weather sharps to tip us off. Then we'll amble over and give the Huns a little shaking up."
Several days passed with the weather exasperatingly clear. Usually the soldiers would have welcomed the bright sunny mornings. But now, when they were keyed up to a high pitch, the one thing they longed for was a dull and lowering sky that would favor the great enterprise they had on hand.
"You might think the boys were a lot of grangers after a dry spell, from the way they're praying for rain," remarked Billy, as for the hundredth time he scanned the sky.
"Remember how different it used to be when we had a baseball game on hand?" laughed Frank. "Then a gleam of sunshine was like money from home after you'd been broke for a week."
"That cloud a little while ago looked as though it might have had thunder and lightning behind it," observed Bart, "but it was only a false alarm."
"Nothing but wind, like a German bulletin," grinned Billy, stretching himself.