e
can do no more for him. Let's move on."

France had lost a brave soldier in this simple peasant. He had given
his life for his country and no man, peasant or king, can do more than
that. He loved France and he died for her gladly. He did not like war
and he had had no quarrel with anyone. When his country was in peril,
however, he had but one thought and that was to do all he could for
her. He had done his best and served her well. There were thousands
more just like him and it was impossible to mourn over any one of them
long. Consequently his four comrades soon left him to attend to the
business in hand.

"The fellow that killed him won't do any damage again anyway," remarked
Earl. "You fixed him all right, Jacques."

"Come," urged Jacques shortly.

"Go slowly from now on," urged Leon. This advice was followed and the
little squad moved forward again. They had no desire that Pierre's
fate should overtake them.

A few moments later they came to a spot where several passages all
seemed to meet. It was like the hub of a wheel, only there were not so
many passages as there are spokes in most wheels.

"Now what?" exclaimed Earl when they had reached this spot.

"Where did they go?" demanded Leon. "We'd better not stand here any
longer though. Some one will take a shot at us if we're not careful."

"Right you are," agreed Jacques heartily. "Let's follow this passage
and see where it leads us." He plunged into one of the dimly lighted
aisles and proceeded cautiously along it, closely followed by his three
companions.

They had gone but a short distance when the passage suddenly opened up
into the main trench and the four soldiers found themselves in the
daylight again. Over their heads the bullets whistled and the
projectiles screamed but none of them fell in that particular trench.
The French charge had carried far beyond this spot and the Germans were
interested in that, while the French guns were still busy hammering the
opposing trenches to pieces.

"Look," cried Earl. "There are the Germans we were chasing."

A squad of French soldiers passed with five German prisoners, one of
them easily recognizable as the tall Prussian they had seen only a
short time before. The man in charge of the squad halted the little
band and a most interesting event took place.

All the buttons were cut off the prisoners' trousers; suspenders and
belts were cut in two and the laces were slashed from their sh