'How many are there of you in the pit?' continued the officer.

'Only three, sir,' Ken answered.

'You will retire to higher ground and construct a new pit. This position
is required for a mitrailleuse. You understand, blockhead?'

'Yes, sir.'

The officer turned to the men behind him.

'Bring up the gun,' he ordered.

'Come on,' said Ken to Dave in the lowest possible whisper. He climbed
quietly out of the hollow as he spoke, and the two others followed.

'Up the hill there--by those bushes,' said the German curtly. 'And be
sharp. Ammunition will be brought you. Understand, your work is to command
the beach and prevent supplies being brought to those dogs in the
trenches.'

'So that's the little game, is it?' said Roy, as the three gained the
shelter of a patch of scrub out of sight of the German. 'A quick firer to
enfilade the trench, and snipers for the beach. Say, Carrington, can't we
do anything to put the hat on that Prussian Johnny's scheme?'

'We've got to,' Ken answered quickly. 'Once they get that quick-firer
posted, it's all up with our lads down below. They'll rake the trench from
end to end.'