, Ned and Jerry went out with the others. The riot started
by the raid had quieted down, and it was possible for the searchers to
advance above their own trenches without drawing the German fire.

First the sentries who had been on duty near the gap in the American
wire were questioned. They had seen the party depart and come back,
but they had not noticed any member of it fall as though wounded, and
they were positive no Germans had been able to get near enough to
capture Private Baker.

"But what can have happened to him?" asked the lieutenant.

"He may have been wounded internally, and didn't speak of it, Sir,"
suggested Ned, whose own wound was troubling him woefully. "Then he
may have become so weak that he fell in the trench somewhere without a
sound."

"That is possible. We must make a careful search."

This was done with pocket flashlights, for any general illumination
would have, perhaps, drawn a German attack. But no sign of Bob was
revealed. It was most mysterious, how he could disappear so suddenly
and completely. Of course, in the general confusion, much more than
this might have happened and not been noticed. But unless he had gone
back after speaking to Jerry, he must either have fallen well within
the American lines or have been captured there. And the last did not
seem possible.

"Well," said the lieutenant, "we'll have to go over in No Man's Land
and take a chance there. He must have gone back after something, and
been potted. I'll have to go back and report and----"

He paused to listen. The tramp of approaching feet could be heard
along the trench. Every man stood at attention, for it was possible
that the enemy had slipped in between sentries and were going to pay a
return visit.

But a moment later the murmur of voices was heard--voices that were
unmistakably American. Some one asked:

"Is your squad stationed here?"

"About here, yes, Sir," was the answer, coming out of the darkness.

"It's Chunky!" cried Jerry.

"That's Bob!" added Ned, joyously.

And a moment later there came into the dim light of the flashlights
the stout chum himself, escorted by three soldiers. He seemed to be
all right, and he carried something that was not a grenade, in one
hand.

"Where have you been, Chunky?" demanded Jerry. "We've been looking
everywhere for you."

"Yes," added the lieutenant, "will you please explain why you did not
report back with the rest of us?"

Bob seemed a trifle surprised a