e one's way, especially
at night. The tanks were scheduled to start moving up at ten o'clock.
Talbot and the Old Bird, with several men, set out at about eight, and
arranged for marks to guide the machines.

We had just reached a part of the Hindenburg Line which was now in our
possession, and were near an ammunition dump, when shells began to
fall around us. They were not near enough to do us any harm, and we
continued our work, when one dropped into the ammunition dump and
exploded. In an instant the whole dump was alight. It was like some
terrible and giant display of pyrotechnics. Gas shells, Verey lights,
and stink bombs filled the air with their nauseous odors. Shells of
all sizes blew up and fell in steely splinters. The noise was
deafening. Cursing our luck, we waited until it died down into a red,
smouldering mass, and then edged up cautiously to continue our work.
By this time, Borwick's tank came up, and he emerged, with a broad
smile on his face.

"Having a good time?" he asked genially.

There was a frozen silence, excepting for his inane laughter. He made
a few more irritating remarks which he seemed to think were very
funny, and then he disappeared inside his tank and prepared to follow
us. We had gone ahead a couple of hundred yards when we heard bombs
exploding, and looking back we saw the tank standing still, with
fireworks going off under one of her tracks. Presently the noise
ceased, and after waiting a moment we strolled back. As we reached the
tank, Borwick and the crew came tumbling out, making the air blue with
their language. They had run over a box of bombs, the only thing that
had survived the fire in the ammunition dump, and one of the tracks
was damaged. To repair it meant several hours' hard work in the cold
in unpleasant proximity to the still smouldering dump. Over Talbot's
face spread a broad smile.

"Having a good time?" he asked pleasantly of Borwick.

Infuriated growls were his only answer. He moved on with his men,
while Borwick and his crew settled down to work.

The night was fortunately dark. They went slowly forward and brought
the route almost up to within calling distance of the Germans. The
Verey lights, shattering the darkness over No Man's Land, did not
disclose them to the enemy. Suddenly, a Boche machine gun mechanically
turned its attentions toward the place where they were working. With a
tightening of every muscle, Talbot heard the slow whisper of the gun.
As it