"Oh, don't worry! We'll take care of them this time," said Blake.

The long lines of khaki-clad soldiers marched and countermarched. They
"hiked," went into camp, cooked, rushed into the trenches, had bayonet
drill, and some went up in aeroplanes. All of this was faithfully
recorded by the films.

Blake and Joe were standing together, waiting for the army officer to
plan some new movements, when a voice behind the two lads asked:

"Pardon me! But are these the new official films?"

Joe and Blake turned quickly before replying. They saw regarding them a
slim young fellow with a tiny moustache. His face was browned, as if
from exposure to sun and air, and he wore a well-fitting and attractive
blue uniform with a leather belt about his waist and another over his
shoulder.

"Yes, these are the official films," answered Blake.

"And are you the official artists?"

"Camera men--just plain camera men," corrected Joe.

"Ah, I am interested!" The man spoke with a slight, and not unpleasing,
accent. "Can you tell me something about your work?" he asked. "I am
very much interested. I would like to know----"

At that moment Macaroni slid up to Blake with a roll of new film, and
hoarsely whispered: