ntention of
crawling back to your position. Hit it, too; didn't I?"

"That sneeze came near causing you to be hit, and with something
harder than a rubber ball," said Jimmy grimly. "Bob? you'd better go
back with him and let him tell his yarn to the captain. He doesn't
know the password, and I'll have to stay here on duty. But hurry back
and let me know what the word is."

"Right-O!" assented Bob, and a moment later he and Franz were
stumbling back over the rough ground, and through the rain and
darkness, toward the dugout where the officer in charge of that
particular sector was on duty. A captured German dugout had been taken
over, and such comforts as it afforded were utilized.

Just as Franz had surmised, the import of the news he brought in
wiped out his offense against orders. He told in detail what he had
overheard, and quick, sharp commands were at once sent out over
the telephone, for the engineers had hastily strung wires when the
advanced posts had been taken by the onrushing American doughboys.

And the information Franz had secured by his bold act proved correct
in every detail. The Germans, smarting under their defeat, were
determined on revenge. The raiding party came over--but they found the
Americans ready.

It was not a large raid, not as large as Franz, in his enthusiasm, had
intimated. And it was evidently undertaken to get back the commanding
position occupied by that part of the 509th to which the five Brothers
were assigned.

But with the advent of the foe the Americans opened such a fire
from rifles, hand grenades and light artillery, while the scene was
illuminated by flaring lights, that the Huns were almost completely
wiped out. A number of prisoners were taken, for the Boches, once they
found the tide of battle going against them, threw down their guns and
cried: "_Kamerad_!"

Sharp as was the fighting, it was only a slight incident in the great
war. Such skirmishes, or trench raids, were occurring all along the
Western front every night. But slight as it was it took the lives of
several gallant American lads, and a number were wounded. Roger
Barlow received a slight flesh wound, but he refused to go back to the
dressing station, insisting on getting back into the fight when his
hurt had received first-aid treatment.

"The only trouble was, though," Roger said later, "that the scrap was
all over when I got back from the first-aid post. Pity you fellows
couldn't have kept it going u