in a whole battery being
sent into action, nothing further was said, officially, of his
conduct. Perhaps his bravery was admired by the officer who saw it.

At any rate Ned, Bob and Jerry had a warm breakfast, which they shared
with some of their chums, and then the day's duty began. It was
performed in the rain, that seemed never-ceasing. The bottom of the
trench was a ditch of mud, in spite of the duck boards laid down.

"Too bad Professor Snodgrass isn't here," remarked Ned, as he pulled
one foot up from the mud and looked at it with the remark that he
wanted to make sure he still had the foot attached to his person.

"Too bad the professor isn't here! Why?" asked Bob.

"Oh, he might find some new kind of bug in this--soup!" and Ned
stirred the thick mud in the bottom of the trench with the butt of his
gun. "It might be more interesting than seeing how noises affect
French crickets."

"Crickets!" cried Jerry. "I feel sorry for any self-respecting cricket
that would stay here to be affected. But, speaking of the professor, I
wish we could see him again. It would be like hearing from home, and
the letters are few and far between."

"That's right," admitted Ned. They had had some missives from their
people, and also the girls, Alice, Helen and Mollie, while Bob, in
addition, had had a note from Helena Schaeffer, who said she was
knitting for the Red Cross. But, of late, no mail had come in.

"I shouldn't be surprised to see the professor walk in on us any day,"
mused Jerry. "He's likely to do it."

"Then he'd better get a hustle on, or he may not find us here,"
observed Ned.

"Why not?" Bob inquired.

"Well, there's a rumor that we're soon going to attack again,"
answered Ned. "And when we go over the top we don't come back to the
old trenches. We make new ones. So the professor, if he doesn't come
soon, may find we have changed our address."

"Going to make an attack!" Jerry spoke softly. "Well, that's the way
to win the war. I hope it will stop raining, though. I hate to fight
in the rain."

But still the dreary drizzle kept up, and through it the soldiers
plodded in the mud of the trench. It was nearly time for the three
chums to be relieved when Ned, who had a post at the right of Jerry,
suddenly gave a start, following a distant report.

"What is it?" asked his tall chum.

In answer Ned pointed to a spattery hole in the trench wall behind
him.

"The German sniper again," he said. "And I'm going