to see if there were any near him in that direction whom he might serve. Then he saw the prone lines ahead of him.

"Me for some of those!" yelled Bob, as he rose from his improvised trench.

"Lie still, you chump!" shouted Ned. "Do you want to be killed?"

"No more than you did when you got the wood from the busted truck," was the answer. "But I've got to have some of those doughnuts!"

And Bob, never heeding the fact that he would be a shining target for the guns of the Germans, started to run toward the Salvation Army man.

Some of the officers, from where they were stationed among the troops, saw him.

"Come back! Come back! Who is he? What's he doing? Is he going to desert in the face of the enemy?" were some of the commands and cries.

But it needed only a glance to show that Bob never had a notion of deserting. He ran toward the man with the baskets of doughnuts on his arms. Crisp, golden-brown doughnuts they were, fresh from one of the traveling kitchens where, behind the lines, the Salvation Army lassies made them—a devoted service that will never be forgotten, but will rank with that of the Red Cross and be immortal.

And now, as might have been expected, the Germans saw the two figures—the only upright ones in that particular neighborhood. And the inevitable followed. They were fired at.Both offered good marks, but Fate, Providence, or whatever you choose to call it, favored them, or else the Germans were wretched shots, which last, in a measure, is known to be true. At any rate, Bob and the Salvation Army man met and Bob took charge of one of the baskets of doughnuts. That, too, was to be expected. 
"Come on--run for it!" yelled the stout lad. "This place is getting hot!"
And indeed it was, for all about their feet were little spurts of earth, showing where the bullets were striking. And together they ran on toward the war-worn, weary figures of the men in the shallow trenches. Straight to where he had left his comrades Bob led the brave man, and they were received with a cheer. 
Though it was desperately against all orders and discipline for Bob to do what he had done, not an officer rebuked him. And then the "fried holes" were quickly handed out to the fortunate ones in that section of the line, the officers refusing any, so that the weary men might have some little refreshment. 
"Halves only--each man only take a half!" cried Ned, when he saw how many men there were and 

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