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It was the sergeant who led the way. He and his detail moved,
except at special times, in a fan-shaped formation with the
noncommissioned officer ahead, three men on either side of him
formed lines obliquely back.

In the center, within these oblique flanks were the French lieutenant
and Captain Prescott.

It was a compact formation, useful in keeping all hands together
and in instant touch, yet likely to prove highly dangerous should
the enemy open on them with rifle or machine-gun fire.

In the center of No Man's Land was a wide, deep shell crater,
caused by the explosion at that point of one of the largest shells
used by the Germans.

Crawling down between friendly and hostile lines, the sergeant
made for this shell-hole. When still several feet away he held
up a hand, whereupon Lieutenant De Verne gripped Prescott's leg.
Leaving the others behind the noncommissioned officer moved silently
forward. It was his task to make sure that an enemy party had
not been first to reach the crater.

Only eyes trained to see in that darkness could make out the fact
that the sergeant had held up a hand once more. This was the
signal to advance. Now, as the men moved forward, the formation
was not kept. Each for himself reached the crater in his own
way and time. Down in this basin men could crouch without fear
of being seen should the night become lighted up.

When the others had entered, Prescott, being further from the
rim, signed to the French lieutenant to precede him. De Verne
had just gained the hole when---Click! Not far away something
was shot up into the air; then it broke, throwing down a beam
of light. Other clicks could be heard, until the land within
two hundred feet of the crater became at least half as bright
as daylight would have made it.

Dick Prescott was outside the crater! At the instant of hearing
the first click he found himself in a shallow furrow in the dirt.
To have sprung into the crater would have been to betray the
presence of the party to the enemy. While German machine-gun
fire could not reach the French men below him Dick knew that a
shell could reach them readily enough.

So he flattened himself in the furrow, his heart beating faster
than usual. There followed moments of tight suspense. Would
this flattened figure be espied by any enemy observer?

Even when the flares died down Dick did not move. He knew that
more flares might be sent up instantly.

A quarter o