Bagger’s bushy eyebrows knit in confusion. “For what? Sneaking out to take Max for a walk?” He pressed a hand to his lower back and stretched. “You’ve saved me the hassle of taking him topside.”

Thomas’s head snapped up. He glanced at George, whose smile widened. Before he could respond, Bagger took Thomas’s bag, tossed it back on his bunk, and handed him the small dog.

“Just tell me before you go, so I know the little guy is with you,” the grizzled clay kicker said. “Understand?”

Thomas nodded.

“Good.” Bagger turned to face the rest of the crew. “Let’s head to the trenches and see if we can scare up something better to eat.”

Thomas watched in stunned silence as Bagger, Frederick, and the men filed out of the dugout. When only Charlie, Max, and Thomas remained, George clapped his hands.

“So what are we waiting around for, Dover? Let’s go find your brother and return his Saint Joe medal.”

“We?” Thomas asked.

“Why not? Like I said, I like playing the odds. Big risk, big reward. Besides, Mouse and I have nothing better to do. Right, Mouse?”

Charlie lowered himself from his bunk and handed Thomas three sheets of paper. “I drew some sketches of your brother, so we each have a picture of him to show when we look.”

Thomas stared in disbelief at the drawings. “Thank you.”

Charlie gave him a meek smile.

“See, Tommy. We’re all in.” George leaned closer and whispered as though he were divulging sensitive military plans. “It’ll be our secret mission.”

“You really want to help me find James?” Thomas asked.

“Sure. It’s not like I’m going to be participating in any rat hunts.” George shot a disappointed glare at Bagger’s dog. “Even if I had more scraps, it doesn’t look like I’d be able to lure Max away from you.” He took one of the drawings of James. “So, let’s get started.”

“Now?” Thomas asked.

“No time like the present. Besides, thanks to me, we no longer have to wait until the crew’s asleep to sneak out. They’ll just think we’re taking ol’ Max here for a walk.” He patted the dog’s head. “Won’t they, Max?”

Thomas stared up at the boy who, just minutes before, he’d been certain had betrayed him. “Thank you, George.”

“No problem,” George said, heading for the doorway. “Now let’s go find Jim.”

“James,” Thomas corrected.

“That’s what I said, and don’t worry, Mouse and I promise we won’t say a word about your secret trips to the front lines. I may be a lyin’ thief, Tommy,” he said with a teasing smile, “but I’m a lyin’ thief who keeps his promises.”

George kept his word. He and Charlie accompanied Thomas into the trenches after each shift. With Max trotting ahead of them, the boys showed Charlie’s sketches to soldiers in the front-line and support trenches and asked if they’d seen James. Some ignored them. Others chased them off with language so colorful it tinted Charlie’s ears. Those who did answer, did so with an apologetic shake of the head.