I was. We sure will go cheer up Iggy!"

"He wants to write to his mother the worst way," went on Jimmy. "And
he insists on writing in English. You know how his letters read, but
he simply won't stick to Polish which he can handle all right. It's
got to be English or nothing."

"Did he write?" asked Roger.

"Not while I was there. His wrist is still too sore. But he made me
promise to bring paper, a pen, and everything, when I came again,
and, if he can't write, one of us is to do it for him--but in English,
mind!"

"Well do it!" declared Bob.

It was three days later when they all received permission to go to the
rear and call on Iggy who was still in the hospital, though likely to
be discharged as cured inside of a week. There was still a lull in the
fighting about the sector where our five Brothers, or, rather, four,
were stationed. But there was an indefinite something in the air that
told of fierce battles to come. The Huns had too much at stake to wait
long.

"Ach! So glad it is I am to see you!" voiced Iggy, when the four
were admitted to him. "Dit you paper and pen pring!" he asked Jimmy,
eagerly. "I myself can write to mother now. See, shmine wrist she is
all so K.O. now."

"K.O.?" cried Roger. "What's the commanding officer got to do with