"As sound as ever," exclaimed Armande quickly. He tried to execute a few dance steps to show his friends how well his wound had healed, but his leg sank under him and a shadow of pain crossed his face.
"Be careful," said Leon anxiously. "Don't try anything like that yet."
"I guess it is not as well as I thought," admitted Armande with a wry smile. "It will be sound soon though."
The five soldiers soon made themselves perfectly at home in their rude quarters and enjoyed themselves thoroughly. A few days of rest worked wonders with them and with all the others in their regiment. At the end of a week the men were clamoring to be sent back into the trenches.
Daily drills were held to keep the troops in good physical condition and the men indulged in all kinds of sports during their leisure hours. Thousands and thousands of soldiers were concentrated in and around this town and so wonderful was the French organization that they could be shifted to any part of the long battle line almost at a moment's notice. There seemed to be an endless supply of equipment as well as of men and no longer could France say that she was unprepared. The whole question now was whether she was prepared enough to undertake the great offensive the soldiers knew was coming some time.
One day, at noontime, came the word that that afternoon there was to be a review of all the troops stationed thereabouts.
"Who is going to review us, do you suppose?" asked Earl of Armande who now had recovered entirely from his bullet wound.
"I don't know," replied Armande. "I don't like these reviews anyway. For my part I'd much rather do some actual fighting."
"I guess you'd rather fight than anything else, wouldn't you?" said Earl laughingly.
"I certainly would," exclaimed Armande. "At least I would as long as these Boches are in France. When they are driven out I want to go back to my little farm and never hear the sound of another gun as long as I live."