If there is one thing more than another which makes life in camp, whether it be in the army or merely a pleasure excursion in the woods, most miserable, it is rain. Snow does not seem so bad, but a soaking rain seems not only to wet one through literally, but also mentally. It depresses the spirits, though, in itself, a good rain is a blessing.

“I say, Corporal!” called Charles Hatton, one of the recruits out with the hiking squad. “There’s an old barn not far off. I’ll be washed away soon. We could go into that shack out of the rain, I should think.”

“I should think so, too,” agreed Jerry. “We’ll do it. I didn’t suppose the storm would be as bad as this, or we’d have gone into the barn in the first place. However, it isn’t too late, except that we’re already wet through.”

“But we can dry out in there, and have a good night’s sleep,” said Bob, who loved his creature comforts, including sleeping and eating.

[230]

Jerry gave the necessary orders. The dog tents were struck, those that had blown down were recovered and, carrying their packs, the boys made a rush through the storm for a somewhat dilapidated and seemingly deserted barn which stood in a field, not far from the spot where camp had first been made.

“Well, this is something like!” exclaimed Ned, as they entered the structure. The swinging doors, sagging on their hinges, had not been locked, but, even if they had been, Jerry felt he would have been justified in breaking them open, agreeing to pay for the damage done, as he was authorized to do.

“Well, there’s some hay I’m going to hit, as soon as I get dried out a bit,” declared Bob, as he flashed his electric light on the mow. It was not full, but enough hay remained to make a good bed for the tired soldiers.

They had eaten their supper, and there was nothing to do but to stretch out and wait for morning, when they would be warmed by hot coffee which they could make for themselves. They carried a little solidified-alcohol stove for this purpose.

The boys took off some of their wet garments and spread them out to dry. Then they laid their blankets on the hay and prepared for a better[231] night’s rest than would have been possible under the tents, even if it had not rained.

“This is something like,” said Ned, as Jerry went to see that the doors were fastened, for, in a measure, he was responsible for the safety of the property of whoever owned the old barn.

It was a very old one, and there seemed to be no house near it, but then the boys could not see very well in the storm and the darkness, and they were in a rolling country, so that the farmhouse might have been down in one of the many hollows surrounding the barn.

The building leaked in places, and two of the young volunteers had to move their blankets after they had spread them out, to avoid streams of water that trickled down on them. But at last all were settled and ready for the night’s repose.

There was no need of posting a sentry, so each one had his full rest. Jerry fell asleep with the others. How long he slumbered he did not know, but he was suddenly awakened by hearing, almost directly under him, the sound of voices.

Though he awoke, Jerry did not immediately get up to see who it was. He was not yet fully aroused. At first he thought it might be some of his own squad, who had found themselves unable to sleep, and who hoped to pass away the hours of the night in talk.

“But that won’t do,” thought Jerry. “If they[232] want to gas they’ve got to go somewhere else. We want to sleep.”

However, as he became more thoroughly awake, and listened more intently to the talk, he realized that it was none of his friends.

The voices were those of men—three of them, evidently, to judge by the different intonations—and they rose and fell in varying accents, the murmur now becoming loud and again soft. And the men seemed very much in earnest.

Jerry and his chums were sleeping in what had been the hay-mow, but the mow was a double one. That is, there was a platform, built up about ten feet above the barn floor, and this platform, the floor of which was of closely-laid poles, served to support the hay, of which there was still quite a layer there.

Below this was an open space, in which there was some straw. It was a double mow, in other words, the upper part used for hay and the lower for straw. In front of the two mows was an open space, forming the main floor of the barn, on which stood some wagons and farm machinery, and on the other side of this was another big mow, used evidently for the storage of only one kind of farm produce, since it was not divided.

Unrolling himself from his blankets, and making as little disturbance as possible in this operation, Jerry made his way to the edge of the mow[233] and looked down. It was ten feet to the barn floor, and there was a ladder at one side, up which the boys had climbed.

Down below him, seated around a lantern............