h them.'

'We'd best make ourselves scarce,' suggested Dave quietly.

'Too late for that,' answered Ken. 'They're bound to see us. Besides, if
they find the pit empty they'll only put fresh men here, and all the work
will be to do again.'

'Let's tackle 'em then,' said Roy Horan recklessly.

'Odds are too long,' replied Ken. He paused a moment, and glanced round.

'I've an idea,' he said swiftly. 'I believe we can fool them. Quick! Take
the coats off the dead men, and put them on. Their fezzes, too. In this
light they'll never know the difference.'

'But if they talk to us?' objected Roy.

'Then I'll talk back. I know the language.'

As he spoke, Ken was swiftly stripping one of the dead Turks of his
overcoat. The others did the same, and within an incredibly short time all
three were wearing dead men's clothes. The coats sat oddly on their long
frames, but fortunately there was as yet very little light, and in the
gray gloom they presented a tolerable resemblance to the late tenants of
the rifle pit.

They had hardly completed the change when the officer who was leading the
party reached the edge of the pit.

'Why are you not firing?' he demanded, and by his harsh guttural voice Ken
knew him at once for a German.

'We are out of ammunition,' he answered readily.

'Schweine Hund! Do you not know enough to say "Sir" to an officer when he
addresses you?'

'Your pardon, sir,' said Ken gruffly. 'The light is so bad, and my eyes
sting with the powder smoke.'

'They will sting worse if you do not mend your manners,' retorted the
German brutally.

Ken, boiling inwardly, had yet wisdom enough to hang his head and make no
reply.

'How many are there of you in the pit?' continued the officer.

'Only three, sir,' Ken answered.

'You will retire to higher ground and construct a new pit. This position
is required for a mitrailleuse. You understand, blockhead?'

'Yes, sir.'

The officer turned to the men behind him.

'Bring up the gun,' he ordered.

'Come on,' said Ken to Dave in the lowest possible whisper. He climbed
quietly out of the hollow as he spoke, and the two others followed.

'Up the hill there--by those bushes,' said the German curtly. 'And be
sharp. Ammunition will be brought you. Understand, your work is to command
the beach and prevent supplies being brought to those dogs in the
trenches.'

'So that's the little game, is it?' said Roy, as the three gained the
shelter of a patch of scrub