are
privates. Carstairs and Wharton are in the ranks and you'll have to take
a place with them."

"I accept gladly, sir."

"The right spirit. Wharton, you and Carstairs get him a uniform and
arms, and he'll stay with you until further orders."

Then Captain Coulton hurried away. Captain Creville bowed and also
withdrew.

"Come on, Scott," said Carstairs. "We've an extra uniform, and it'll
just about fit you. A rifle, cartridges and all your other arms are
ready, too."

John was equipped promptly, and then many introductions followed. It was
a little Anglo-American island in the midst of a French sea, and they
gave a joyous welcome to a new face. John noticed that many of them bore
slight wounds, and he soon learned that several others, hurt badly, lay
in an improvised hospital at the rear.

"The Germans are pressing us hard," said Wharton. "They whipped us
yesterday afternoon, and they're sure to come for us again today.
There's Captain Colton now standing on the earthwork, watching through
his glasses. In my opinion something's doing."

Nearly all the Strangers went forward. From a hillock, John with his two
new friends looked toward the forest, miles in their front. The forest
itself was merely a blind mass of green, but overhead swung aeroplanes
and captive balloons.

"Look up!" said Carstairs.

John saw a half dozen aeroplanes hovering some distance in front of
their own lines.

"I think they're signaling," said Carstairs. "One of those monster guns
must be getting ready to disgorge itself."

"The forty-two centimeter?" said John.

"Yes, and I'm right, too. I saw a flash in the forest, and here comes
the little messenger!"

There was a roar and a crash so tremendous that John was almost shaken
from his feet. An enormous shell burst near the earthworks, sending
forth a perfect cloud of shrapnel and steel fragments. It resembled the
explosion of a volcano, and as his ears recovered their power after the
shock John heard the cries of many wounded.

"I think this force carries only one such gun with it," said Carstairs,
"and it will be some time before they can fire it again. We have nothing
to equal it, but the French seventy-five millimeter is an awful weapon.
The gunners can time them so the shells burst only fifteen or twenty
feet from the ground, and then they rain death. I think it likely that
we have out now a flanking force that will get within range."

"There's cover to the right," said Wa