rry, I'm 'ung up!"

"Shut yer 'ead! What's the trouble?" growled his companion; and as Harry
Hawke groped for his mate he shook the strand; the well-known jangle of
an empty bully-beef tin warning them all that they had struck one of the
simplest expedients of modern warfare, freely used by both sides.

A tin dangling on the barbed wire does not ring like a cracked bell
unless somebody touches it; and from the darkness just in front and
above their heads, Dan and Dennis heard a guttural whisper, and,
realising that they were immediately under the enemy's parapet, lay as
flat as playing cards.

"It's those two fellows of mine," breathed Dennis in his cousin's ear.
"But how the dickens have we passed the wire without giving the alarm?"

Dan, with recollections of Anzac fresh upon him, remembered that slither
of earth from those crump-holes on the left.

"I'll bet you anything there's a party gone out to your trench, and
they've shifted a section of the wire to let them through," he replied.
"We may meet them on the way back. Don't move! We know, anyhow, that
their new wire's not fixed!"

Voices were humming above them now, and the German trench guards were
evidently on the alert. Still nothing happened, and Dennis was just
congratulating himself that their presence there was unsuspected when
there was a sharp sound from the top of the sandbags, and a pistol light
soared above their heads, illuminating the darkness.

For a moment everything was distinctly visible, although they themselves
were so far hidden by the German sandbags; but as Dennis looked back
over his shoulder, he saw the luckless Tiddler lying prone and helpless
in the open, and the white face of Hawke telling out strong in the
glare.

A hoarse shout from the German trench went up as the pistol flare died
down, showing that they had been seen.

"Give us a hand, matey; I ain't 'arf caught!" entreated Tiddler, who,
resting principally on his face and one knee, was making violent efforts
to disengage himself.

"'Old still!" growled Hawke, producing his nippers and snapping the
strand in two places, leaving a short piece about a foot in length
embedded in the tough cloth. "Now yer clear; back out of it." And as he
seized his rifle a green star-shell soared overhead, and there was an
ear-splitting screech above them.

"That's high velocity," whispered Dan Dunn, as they heard the splosh of
a heavy shell in rear of the British parapet, followed by a de