bullet, and the boys stood behind them for a few moments while they
listened intently for any sound that might betray the presence of an
enemy patrol, prowling about on an errand similar to their own.

But nothing suspicious developed, and, reassured, they again, at a
signal from their leader, moved forward. But new they were no longer on
their feet. They were too close to the German line for that.

Down on hands and knees they wormed their way along inch by inch,
reaching out their hand cautiously for each fresh grip on the uneven
ground. Sometimes their hands encountered emptiness and they were warned
that they were on the edge of a shell hole. At other times they drew
back in instinctive repulsion, as they felt the rigid outlines of a dead
body. But whatever detours they had to make, they managed by touch or
whisper to keep together, and although their progress was slow it was
still progress, and they knew that they were steadily nearing the German
lines.

Suddenly Frank's extended hand came in contact with a sharp object that
he recognized on the instant. It was the barb on a broken strand of
wire.

They had reached the entanglement protecting a segment of the German
trench.

Frank had been a trifle in advance of his comrades, and he softly
signaled his discovery to the others. In an instant they had stiffened
out and lay as rigid as statues.

For five minutes not one of them stirred, while they listened for the