e ruins of
the truck. It was blown apart, and the wooden body and wheels were
scattered about while the engine was a mere mass of twisted and fused
metal.

"Look! They didn't get the driver!" cried Bob, for as he spoke the man
in charge of the truck picked himself up from a clump of bushes where
he had been tossed, and limped toward the American line. He had
escaped death by a miracle.

Then something else attracted the attention of Bob, Jerry, and the
others. It was the sight of Ned Slade creeping along toward a pile of
splintered wood--all that was left of the demolished truck.

"Who's that? What is he doing?" cried the officer in charge of that
part of the trench. "Does he hope to rescue the driver? Can't he see
that the man is safe and is coming in? Who is he?"

"Private Slade, Sir," replied Jerry.

"But what is he doing? That's a foolhardy piece of business, trying to
reach that truck. It's under the fire of the German trench, as well as
within range of their battery. What is he trying to do?"

CHAPTER XV

THE SNIPER

All stood looking from the trench at the actions of Ned Slade.

"Look!" cried Bob, pointing to his chum. "He's picking up pieces of
wood!"

"Has he gone crazy?" murmured the officer, peering through his glasses
at Private Slade. "Does he think he can salvage anything from the
wreck?"

Just what Ned was thinking of was not evident. He moved here and there
amid the ruins of the ammunition automobile, picking up bits of wood
until his arms could hold no more. It was raining heavily, and when
Ned stepped into a puddle the mud and water could be seen to splash.

And then, when Ned could carry no more and turned to come back to his
own trench, the Germans, in theirs, suddenly awoke to the chance they
had been missing. There were sharp reports, and something besides rain
drops splashed into the pools of water all about Ned.

"They're firing at him! He'll be killed!" cried Bob.

"It seems very likely!" said the officer grimly. "Who gave him
permission to go out like that, and why did he do it?"

No one answered. No one knew what to say.

And now Ned, aware of his own danger, began to run toward the trench.
He came on, stooping over to offer less of a target to the Germans,
and he zig-zagged as he leaped forward. But through it all, through
the hail of lead, he did not drop the pieces of the demolished truck
he had picked up.

The firing from the German lines became hotter, and a