"Well, there's no fault to be found with your _fighting_, that's
sure!" declared Roger. "Put her there, old pal!" and he clasped hands
with his foreign "Brother."

"How's everything here?" asked Jimmy, when the five had taken such
easy positions as were available in the narrow trench.

"We're all ready for the zero hour," replied Bob. "Everybody's on
their tiptoes. I wish it was over--I mean here. This waiting is worse
than fighting."

"It sure is," commented Franz. "But it won't be long now."

"What time do you make it?" asked Bob.

"Must be quite some after three," said Jimmy in a low voice. "It was
nearly three when we got our orders to come here."

Roger took out a tiny pocket flash lamp, and, placing one finger over
the bulb so that no rays would escape, held the dim glow over his
wrist-watch.

"Quarter to four," he announced.

"Fifteen minutes more," sighed Dal.

"They'll seem like fifteen years, though, Bob," commented Jimmy.

A reaction, in the shape of silence, came upon the Khaki Boys--"five
Brothers" as they called themselves, for they had become that since