O. D. turned restlessly for a long time before he could adapt his body to the topography of the ground that was his bed. He had funny feelings in his joints as if something was grinding against the bones, especially when he remained in one position long. Jimmy’s snoring told him that his new friend was asleep.

The new-comer to the environs of the front lay awake almost two hours. He thought of home, of his mother, of Mary, and of what was before him. Now and then a distant rumbling as if thunder was muttering in far-away skies came to his ears.

Jimmy had explained the rumbling as being the noise of guns that were perhaps twenty kilometers away. O. D. couldn’t put down the idea that he was near the front, the thing that he had been working toward since becoming a soldier. The idea gripped him so strongly that he couldn’t stay the restless feelings which worked through his veins fire-like.

He sat up, reached for his shoes, slipped them on, and crawled out of the tent.

The night was singularly clear for France. A growing moon and myriad stars had purged the world of shadows and given it a generous possession of silver light. Except for the soft noises made by the horses and the occasional rumble that came from the hills of Verdun, the night was quiet and suggestive of peaceful repose.

O. D. looked and listened at the things of the night. A sentry strolled leisurely along the road where the guns of his regiment were camouflaged. Far in front of him a chain of golden rockets climbed against the horizon and disappeared as if by magic. The thing that O. D. had thought was thunder came to his ears again. Then all was so quiet that he could hear Jimmy sleeping.

“I’m almost at the front,” soliloquized the man to himself. “No one else seems to know it, or feel it, but me. Guess I better try to sleep.” He turned to go back in the pup tent.

A soft, subdued thing like the drone of a bee rose and fell on the night air. O. D. jumped forward a trifle, startled by the sinister beelike noise that seemed almost overhead.

Rat-tat-tat-tat! B-o-o-m! B-o-o-m! Rat-tat-tat-tat!

The peace of the night ended in the fierce barking of machine-guns and the crash of anti-air-craft cannon. Between shots, the soft droning that came from the skies continued in a casual, business-like way that caused cold perspiration to come unbidden to O. D.’s forehead.

B—A—N—G!

A bomb exploded about four hundred yards from where O. D. stood, and the ground quivered beneath him.

The sound of waking men stirred him to speak.

“What—— What is it?” he asked.

“Nothin’ but a Boche plane droppin’ bombs. They’re goin’ at him with the archies, but might just as well use pea-shooters. Never get a plane with that stuff,” came the answer from a dark part of the woods.

W-h-i-r-r!

Something was passing directly overhead. O. D. looked up. He saw a black shadow flit between himself and the moon. Then another bomb exploded. O. D. dived into the tent. He landed on Jimmy.

“What the hell’s up?” asked Jimmy, coming out of sleep.

“Listen,” whispered O. D. in a hoarse voice.

Jimmy listened.

“Nothin’ but some Boche planes, I guess. They’ll never get us, but I hate ’em just the same. Turn over and let’s cushay encore.”

O. D. lay down again, but did not sleep until the droning had ceased and the guns had become quiet. Fatigue finally overpowered his senses and he fell into deep slumber.

“Wake up, O. D. Time to monjay.” Jimmy, fully dressed, was bending over O. D.

“What—— Oh—— Time to get up and eat, eh? What have they got for breakfast, Jimmy?”

“Bacon, hardtack, and coffee. The coffee’s got sugar in it for a wonder. Make it fast or we’ll get nothin’ but seconds.”

Sitting bolt upright in the little tent, O. D. took account of the fact that Jimmy was all ready and showed signs of having been up some time.

“You have been up and around, Jimmy; why didn’t you wake me up before?” asked............