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 until I could join you."

"Better to have it over with sharp and sudden than drag along,"
replied Jimmy. "They killed poor Baker right in front of me," he
added, naming a "bunkie" of whom he and the five Brothers were very
fond. "I might just as well have received that bullet."

"Yes. It's a queer world," mused Bob. "If it hadn't been that Franz
went out against orders and got information, we might all be dead
now."

And this was true.

Once more silence settled down over the trenches, but it was now
almost morning, and with the breaking of dawn the rain that had been a
drizzle all night settled into a steady downpour.

"Not much fighting to-day," decided Roger, when the four Brothers were
at breakfast together--and a cold breakfast at that, for there was no