f a mile down the line he could hear a machine gun
rouse itself into sudden fury, though none of the missiles came
his way.

"I've a chance yet," Dick thought grimly. Yet when blackness
came down over the scene again he did not move. No matter what
happened to himself he did not intend that harm should come to
his French comrades through any act of his.

As Dick still lay there a pebble touched the dirt lightly just
before his face. Raising his head a couple of inches he saw a
hand, dimly outlined at the edge of the crater, beckoning.

"That means that I'm to go ahead," Dick told himself. "I'll follow
instructions."

He took considerable time about it, moving an inch or two at a
time. This, however, soon brought him to the edge of the basin-like
depression. In going down the inside he moved a bit more rapidly,
but did not rise until he found himself among the others. Then
he rose to his knees in the middle of the group.

"You are wonderful!" whispered the French lieutenant, placing
his lips at Prescott's ear. "You Americans must have learned
your stealth from your own Indians. We are clumsy when we try
to equal you in moving without noise."

One of the soldiers had taken station at the edge of the crater
nearest the German line. Here, with helmet off, and showing not
a fraction of an inch more of his head above ground than was necessary,
this sentry watched in the dark.

Again De Verne's lips sought Dick's ear as he whispered:

"What we would like most to do is to find out what is going on
in the Hun trenches. Next to that, the thing we like best is
to ambush a German patrol, capture or kill the men, and get back
with our prisoners."

"French patrols must often be captured, also," Dick whispered
cautiously.

"But yes!" replied the French lieutenant, with a shrug of his
shoulders. "It is a game of give-and-take, and all the luck cannot
be ours."

Still nearer the enemy's wire defenses lay a smaller shell-hole.
By creeping up beside the sentry Prescott was able to see it.
He remained where he was while a soldier of the French party,
holding a bomb in his right hand, crept out of the crater, moving
noiselessly ahead.

Arrived at the edge of the smaller shell-hole the soldier sent
back a hand signal, then crept down into concealment.

Up out of the crater started the sergeant without delay. As he
passed Prescott the noncommissioned officer gripped him, pointing
backward. There knelt De Vern