ey slowed down and approached the French lines cautiously. Presently
they beheld the first French entrenchment. As they drew close a French
soldier poked up his head and levelled a rifle at them.

"Halt!" he cried. "Who goes there?"

"Friends!" returned Hal.

"Advance friends," came the soldier's next words while he still held his
rifle ready.

Hal and Chester advanced to the very edge of the trench. There the
soldier took a good look at their faces and noticed the German uniforms.
Up went his rifle again and he would have pulled the trigger with the gun
aimed squarely at Hal had not Chester leaped quickly forward and struck
up the weapon.

The two clinched.

"You fool!" cried Chester. "We are not Germans!"

Other soldiers now came running up. They gathered about the two figures
in German uniforms. An officer approached. Fortunately, he recognized the
two boys and waved the men away.

"These men are all right," he said.

The soldiers drew off, satisfied, all but the man who would have fired
point blank at Hal. He stood there and eyed the lad sullenly. Then, for
the first time, Hal obtained a good look at him. The lad recognized him
instantly. He was the same man who had directed the hazing of young Jules
Clemenceau a short time before.

As the Frenchman leered at him evilly, Hal walked close to him.

"It's my belief you knew me all the time," he declared quietly.

"What of it?" the Frenchman demanded.

"Why," said Hal, "only that if I were sure, I'd pull your nose for you."

"Ha!" exclaimed the Frenchman. "I'd like to see you try it. You caught me
off my guard the other night. You can't do it again."

"I don't particularly care to do it," returned Hal, quietly, "because
you're not worth it; but if I start I'll probably go through with it."

Again the Frenchman sneered at him.

Further conversation was prevented by the appearance of a French
lieutenant who had observed the trouble.

"Matin!" he ordered. "Back to your post at once, sir."

The latter saluted respectfully enough, but he gave Hal another evil look
as he walked away.

"He's no friend of yours, that's sure," said the young French officer to
Hal, with a smile.

"I am glad to say he's not," replied Hal, quietly. "I don't believe I'd
care for a friend like that."

"I don't blame you," was the young officer's response. "Matin has a bad
reputation and I would advise you to keep your eye on him."

"Thanks," said Hal. "I shall remember th