Welfare League, did so much to help win the war. "But if the boys in camp over there had to depend for reading on the dry, scientific magazines and books the professor sent them they'd be hard put," commented Jerry to his chums, afterward. "Well, we're moving, anyhow," observed Bob, as he and the others noticed that tugs were backing the transport out into the river. "Now that we're under way, don't you think we'd better go and see about----" "Grub!" finished Jerry, fairly taking the word out of Chunky's mouth. The stout lad glared a moment, and then said: "Well, yes, grub! Why not? We have to eat, don't we?" "You said it, Bob!" exclaimed Ned. "Go to it!" But the boys found they need not have worried about the matter of eating or sleeping. Competent hands had the comfort of the soldiers in charge and there was nothing lacking that could be obtained. They were taken in charge by officers, divided into squads, assigned to certain lifeboats, and told where to report when an alarm for a submarine attack, real or simulated, was sounded. Professor Snodgrass told how he had secured permission to come aboard the transport with his friends, the young soldiers--no easy matter--and how he had been designated as a "correspondent," though Jerry Hopkins, on hearing this, remarked: "I suppose if he did send any news it would be to the _Bug Hunter's Review_, describing the life of an insect on an army transport." "Very likely," agreed Ned. And so, amid the blaring whistle salutes of river craft, the former German liner dropped down the bay and started for France with the young soldiers who were to do their part in ending barbarous militarism forever. It was not exactly a gay trip. There were many who were seasick in spite of the calm weather, and there was little to do on board. Only a few books were available to read, and these were in constant use. Aside from lifeboat drill there was little to occupy the boys. But there was always the fear of a submarine attack when they should reach the infested zone, and the boys looked forward to this as something that would relieve the monotony. There was a gun crew on the transport--several of them, in fact--and the troop ships were escorted by war vessels and the swift, snake-like destroyers, which moved with such remarkable speed.One day, after the usual lifeboat drill, which was held at different hours each day so that none would suspect when it was coming, the three chums were standing near the forward gun, rather idly scanning the water. The night had been a dreary one, cooped up as they were in the darkness, for now that they were approaching the danger zone, all but the most necessary lights were dimmed.

Up above, and on various parts of the deck, were the lookouts, 

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