CHAPTER XII
IN REVIEW
The speeding car was lost in a cloud of dust and soon disappeared.
"Are you sure that was President Poincaré?" asked Leon.
"I am sure of it," replied Jacques. "I have seen him several times before."
"What do you suppose he is doing here?"
"On a tour of inspection probably. He visits the front frequently."
The tired soldiers swung along the road, their ranks thinner than they had been a few days before. Many a brave son of France had marched to his death when the douzième had filed down into the trenches to lead the offensive a short time previous. That the regiment was held in high esteem, however, was proved by the fact that many a cheer went up as soon as its battle-scarred standard was recognized.
At length they reached the village where their headquarters had been established and every man was assigned a place in which he was to live. Leon, Jacques, Earl, and Dubois found themselves together in the loft of a barn. Five rude cots, with mattresses far from soft, were placed there for them to sleep on.