"Well, I've lost part of something I won in it, anyhow," declared
Jimmy.
"Is Iggy dead?" Franz wanted to know. "Did you hear any word from him?"
"No, but we must make some inquiries. This is about something else. Fellows, I guess I'll have to wait until I get a remittance from home before I give you your shares of the thousand dollars reward."
"Wait for a remittance!" exclaimed Roger. "Not that I'm altogether sure I'm going to take what you call my 'share' of that; but why do you have to wait?"
"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."
"Where was the sergeant stationed?" asked Roger.
"In that big concrete dugout we captured from the Germans in the scrap just before this," Jimmy explained. "He was in command of a hand grenade squad there, and just before the fight, or at least soon after the signal to advance was given, that was the last seen of Sergeant Maxwell and my money," added the owner of it ruefully.
His companions received the news in silence. Then Franz spoke up and asked: