This seems to me about the safest spot I've seen."

"Too bad the others don't know about it," said Leon.

"Listen," warned Jacques. "Here comes somebody now."

A moment later six soldiers filed into the dug-out. They were men from
the _douzieme_, but belonged to a different company from that of which
Leon and Jacques were members.

"Come in," cried Jacques cordially. "Have some tea."

No second invitation was needed and the eight soldiers were soon
grouped around the fire, sipping canteens of hot tea. Everyone was as
enthusiastic as Leon and Jacques had been and life seemed worth while
once more. The time was short, however; it soon became necessary for
our two young friends to leave and go back to their post.

They said good-by to their comrades and made their way outside. Coming
to the little alley that led to the dug-out they stopped and listened
to the artillery duel.

"The Germans are tuning up again," remarked Jacques.

"They certainly are," agreed Leon. "Did you ever notice how you can
tell from the sound a shell makes going through the air just what kind
it is?"

"Yes, and you can judge their direction and where they're going to fall
too."

Suddenly Jacques grasped Leon fiercely by the arm. "Look out," he
cried in terror, and threw himself and his companion prone upon the
floor of the trench.

He had heard a sound which he knew meant danger and possibly death; the
awful whistling roar of a high explosive.

CHAPTER XVII

LIPPEN BREAKS

A terrific explosion shook the earth. Dirt was mixed with logs and
stones and showered everything nearby. The deadly lyddite blackened
the faces of the two young soldiers and half blinded them. For some
moments they were too stunned to move.

Finally they recovered somewhat from the shock and rose to their feet.

"Look at that dug-out, Jacques," exclaimed Leon. "It's blown to
pieces."

"How about the men inside?" cried Jacques. "There are six of them."

As he finished speaking one of the trapped soldiers crawled out. He
pulled himself along with one arm, for the other was terribly
shattered; one of his legs hung only by a tendon and a few shreds of
flesh.

"Quick, Leon!" cried Jacques. "Cut the cord from your bandolier; you
tie up his arm and I'll attend to his leg. We must stop this flow of
blood or he'll die."

The wounded soldier was a fine, healthy boy; a few minutes before he
had been telling what he planned to do when he went h