ing to a secure shelter on a level much below
that of the cellar. Here were two rooms underground, both equipped
with desks, lights, chairs, telephones and all that was needed
for communicating with the ranking officers of the division at
their posts in the trenches.

"It is stupid to have to work under candlelight in the daytime,"
sighed the division commander. "However, Major Wells, as I was
explaining to you-----"

Here recourse was again had to the maps, which the officers of
the staff had brought along.

Before dark supper was served at division headquarters in this
dug-out reached through the cellar of a ruined house.

"If it were not that I expect an attack tonight, and must be at
my post, it would give me delight to go with you and show you
our trenches," said the division commander at parting.

Private Berger had been summoned to lead the party through the
intricate system of communication trenches to the front. Berger,
who was a short, squat fellow with a sallow face and uneasy black
eyes, took his seat beside the soldier chauffeur.

For only a little more than a mile the Americans proceeded in
the car, which then halted, and all hands stepped out into the
dark night.

"From here on we must walk," announced Captain Ribaut. "Berger,
be sure that you take us by the most direct route. Do not take
us into the Hun trenches to-night."

"I know the way excellently, my captain," Berger replied briefly.

For some distance they walked over open country, made dangerous,
however, by the presence of gaping shell-holes. Runners, soldiers
and others passed them going to or from the trenches. The artillery
duel, save for an occasional stray shot, had ceased on both sides.

"The road is steeper here," said Berger, halting after he had led
his party half a mile through the darkness. "We now go up hill."

It was harder climbing, going up that incline. A quarter of a
mile of this, and Lieutenant Terry suddenly found himself following
the guide through a cut in between two walls of dirt higher than
his head.

"We are in the communication trenches," said Berger in French. Noll
gathered the meaning of the remark.

At every few yards there was a twist or a turn in the trench.
At times they came to points where two trenches crossed each
other. Had it been left to the Americans to find their own way
they would have been hopelessly confused in this network and maze
of intersecting ditches. Berger, however,