and grimmer work to come. The United
States troops were going through a period of intensive trench training
to be ready to take their share of the fighting with the French and
British forces.

The village where Blake and his chums were quartered was a few miles
from the front, but so few that day and night, save when there was a
lull, the booming of guns could be heard.

"There hasn't been much real fighting, of late," Private Drew informed
the boys the day after their arrival. "It's mostly artillery stuff, and
our boys are in that. Now and then a party of us goes over the top or on
night listening-patrol. Fritz does the same, but, as yet, we haven't had
what you could call a good fight. And we're just aching for it, too."

"That's what we want to get pictures of," said Blake. "Real fighting at
the front trenches!"

"Oh, you'll get it," prophesied the private. "There's a rumor that we'll
have some hot stuff soon. Some of our aircraft that have been strafing
Fritz report that there's something doing back of the lines. Shouldn't
wonder but they'll try to rush us some morning. That is, if we don't go
over the top at 'em first."

"I hope we'll be there!" murmured Joe. "And I hope we get a good light
so we can film the fighting."

"They'll be almost light enough from the star-shells, bombs and big
guns," said Private Drew. "Say, you ought to see the illumination some
nights when the Boches start to get busy! Coney Island is nothing to it,
Buddy!"

Before the moving picture boys could get into real action on the front
line trenches, there were certain formalities to go through, and they
had to undergo a bit of training.

Captain Black, to whom they were responsible and to whom they had to
report each day, wanted first some films of life in the small village
where the troops were quartered when not in the trenches. This was to
show the "boys at home" what sort of life was in prospect for them.

Aside from the danger ever present in war in any form, life in the
quaint little town was pleasant. The boys in khaki were comfortably
housed, they had the best of army food, and their pleasures were not
few. With the advent of Blake and his chums and the putting in operation
of the moving picture show, enthusiasm ran high, and nothing was too
good for the new arrivals.

But they had their work to do, for they were official photographers and
were entrusted with certain duties. Back of the firing line, of course,
there was