again. The Sergeant's forehead
puffed up and got red, and he swore that if he found the man who
played dirty jokes, he'd make him eat this one.

The Colonel sent for Claude and Gerhardt to come to breakfast
with him. He had been talking by telephone with the Missouri
officers and had agreed that they should stay back in the bush
for the present. The continual circling of planes over the wood
seemed to indicate that the enemy was concerned about the actual
strength of Moltke trench. It was possible their air scouts had
seen the Texas men going back,--otherwise, why were they holding
off?

While the Colonel and the officers were at breakfast, a corporal
brought in two pigeons he had shot at dawn. One of them carried a
message under its wing. The Colonel unrolled a strip of paper and
handed it to Gerhardt.

"Yes, sir, it's in German, but it's code stuff. It's a German
nursery rhyme. Those reconnoitering planes must have dropped
scouts on our rear, and they are sending in reports. Of course,
they can get more on us than the air men can. Here, do you want
these birds, Dick?"

The boy grinned. "You bet I do, sir! I may get a chance to fry
'em, later on."

After breakfast the Colonel went to inspect B Company in the
Boar's Head. He was especially pleased with the advantageous
placing of the machine guns in the Snout. "I expect you'll have a
quiet day," he said to the men, "but I wouldn't like to promise
you a quiet night. You'll have to be very steady in here; if
Fritz takes this loop, he's got us, you understand."

They had, indeed, a quiet day. Some of the men played cards, and
Oscar read his Bible. The night, too, began well. But at four
fifteen everybody was roused by the gas alarm. Gas shells came
over for exactly half an hour. Then the shrapnel broke loose;
not the long, whizzing scream of solitary shells, but drum-fire,
continuous and deafening. A hundred electrical storms seemed
raging at once, in the air and on the ground. Balls of fire were
rolling all over the place. The range was a little long for the
Boar's Head, they were not getting the worst of it; but thirty
yards back everything was torn to pieces. Claude didn't see how
anybody could be left alive back there. A single twister had
killed six of his men at the rear of the loop, where they were
shovelling to keep the communication clear. Captain Owns' neat
earthworks were being badly pounded.

Claude and Gerhardt were consulting together when the smo