afternoon which ought to last us a month. But it is still pretty cold and Bradley and Cook keep the fireplace so well filled up that we have to have two or three cords on hand all the time. We keep it stacked up in the corner where the piano used to be. The two of us ran my ambulance down the street to the wreck of an old mansion, filled the back chuck full of banister pickets, assorted furniture and wainscoting which we tore from the walls, and carried it back to our one room apartment on the hill.
It is twenty minutes to ten and we are still sitting around the fire. Crow pulled out his mouth-organ a little while again and is playing every ragtime he can think of. Cook has just received a long expected check from home and is so happy about it that he is practising a clog dance on Ott Kann's bed. Ott is on duty at Post Three.
