up the road they were held up by a sudden burst
of H. E. shells, which fell in near proximity to the crossroads before
them.

"Well, we'll just wait here a few minutes until we can time these
things," said Barry, sitting down by the roadside.

As they were waiting there, three soldiers passed them at quick march.

"Better wait, boys," called Barry; "they are dropping quite a few shells
at the crossroads."

"We are runners, sir," said one of them. "I guess we'll just take a
chance, thank you, sir."

"All right, boys, if you think best," replied Barry. "Good luck!"

"Thank you, sir," they said, and set off at a smart pace.

While Barry sat listening to the sound of their footsteps upon the
pavement, there came that terrific whine, followed by an appalling
crash, as a H. E. shell landed full upon the road. Barry sprang to his
feet. Three other shells followed in quick succession, then there came
the sound of hurrying feet and a man appeared, bleeding horribly and
gasping.

"Oh, my God! My God! They are gone! They are gone!"

"Sit down," said Barry. "Now, where's your wound?"

"My arm, sir," said the man.

Barry cut off the blood-soaked sleeve, ripped open his first aid
dressing, and bound the wound up tightly. Then he put a tourniquet upon
the arm above the wound.

"The other boys killed, you say?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir, blown to pieces. Oh, my God!" he groaned, shuddering. "My
chum's whole head was blown off, and the other has his belly all torn
up."

"Now look here, old man," said Barry, "you lie down here where you are,
and keep perfectly still," for the man was throwing himself about, more
from shock than from pain. "We'll get you to the dressing station in a
few minutes. Monroe, run and get the stretcher bearers, and I'll go and
see how things are up yonder."

He threw his coat over the wounded man, and set off at a run toward the
crossroads. He found matters as the man had said, the two bodies lying
in a dark patch of bloodsoaked dust, one with head quite blown off, and
the other with abdomen horribly torn.

He hurried back to the wounded man, who had recovered somewhat from his
shock and was now lying on his side quietly moaning. Barry got from him
the names and units of the men who had been killed.

"I will drop a note to your mother, too, my boy," he said, "and tell her
about your wound."

"Oh, sir," said the boy quickly--he was only a boy after all--"don't
tell her--at least, tell her I'