The Director of the Commissary Department, with his staff, was on hand to inspect the six van loads, which drove into the space between the store sheds. He stopped in front of the van occupied by Ralph. The latter stood up and saluted.

"We had a hot time of it," said Ralph.

Without replying for a moment the officer quickly glanced at Alfred in the following car, in astonishment.

"How does it happen that you are in charge of these vans?" he asked.

"We were aboard on the trip, and when the drivers were hit we took their places," said Alfred.

"Did you know what chances you were taking?" he asked.

"Well, no," replied Ralph, "but that didn't make any difference. We are used to taking chances."

"You deserve great credit for the work. Orderly, take the names of these young men, and assign them quarters. Be at my office in an hour," he said.

"Thank you; we will be there," said Alfred. "Where shall we take these vans?"

"The officer in charge of transportation will direct you," was the reply.

After the loads had been disposed of and they were walking toward the commandant's quarters, Ralph said: "We seem to get into the service by the back-door route right along."

"Why, do you think they will give us a job running those vans?" asked Alfred.

"Possibly so; but I don't want any of it in mine. I'd like to join the artillery and smash the life out of those fellows who are shelling Devil's Cut," replied Ralph.

At the appointed time the boys entered the commandant's office. The drivers of the different vans were present, and all greeted the two boys with considerable show of appreciation.

"How did it happen that you were on the goods vans?" asked the officer.

"We were trying to get to the front, so we took the opportunity to help them load up, and just came along after we got through," said Alfred.

"Where did you get your uniforms?" he asked.

"We wore these while we were in the service," replied Ralph, and, as the latter said this, he drew out the discharge paper, and Alfred took pleasure in doing likewise.

The officer glanced at the papers, nodded his head approvingly, and said: "Those credentials are certainly creditable to you. We admire Americans, and assure you we have the utmost respect for the American boy. Do you wish to enter the service? We can use brave fellows like yourselves."

"We are trying to join the artillery," said Ralph, "but we haven't succeeded so far in getting a position."

"I am sorry I cannot be of any service to you in that direction," responded the officer, "but I can commend you to the commanding general, in submitting my report."

On leaving the building they passed a group of men, who, evidently, were discussing the incidents of the afternoon, for, as they approached, some of the men saluted them, and one of them held up his hand to stop them.

"I am requested to say that Count Le Clery wishes to see you," he said.

They looked at him in a bewildered way. "Count Le Clery, who is he?" asked Alfred.

"You will find him in the hospital, ward 8," was the reply.

"Does he want to see us now?" asked Ralph.

"Yes; he is able to see you now," was the answer.

Entering the hospital they were directed to a row of cots, patient C, 28. Before them was a man with a bandaged head, and an arm stretched across the bed, held straight with a splint.

"I don't suppose you recognize me?" said the man.

Alfred looked closer and slowly shook his head.

"I am told that you and your friend piloted my car and another through that storm in Devil's Cut," he said.

"Oh, I know you now," said Ralph. "Well, we couldn't do anything else, could we?"

"Well, I want to thank you, and tell you that you have made a friend who will never forget you. I remember the conversation with you before we had our little accident," he continued, addressing Alfred. "We need young men of your stamp, and I will keep you in mind and act as soon as I am able to move about."

Incidents of this kind are always the subjects of conversation among hospital internes. They seem to crave excitement, and like to talk about exceptional exploits. That the boys were volunteers and Americans at that, lately in the aviation corps, bearing honorable discharges for valuable services rendered, was certainly worthy of comment.

It was with some surprise that they were directed by the orderly to take possession of a tent, and assigned to a mess made up of the clerks of the warehouse. There they found several other young men, and during the two weeks they remained, were general favorites with every one in the government employ.

Late in the evening, hearing an unusual bustle outside, and the tooting of horns, they peered out, and saw a dozen goods vans coming across the compound. On investigation they learned that the last supply vans had not been molested in the least, but the first convoy to reach the field base the next morning was literally shot to pieces, two of the chauffeurs having been killed, several of the assistants severely wounded, and three of the vans completely demolished.

The supply station was less than a mile behind the lines, but it was well concealed behind a bluff on the western side of the little stream, and only occasionally would a shell find its way to that section. The precaution was taken by the commanding officer, to keep a score of airplanes above and near the camp and thus prevent the enemy from locating the spot.

During the following day they visited the trenches, not on account of the novelty, but more a matter of curiosity. On returning they crossed the stream and ascended an elevation, designated as Hill 207, where they inspected the battery and conversed with some of the gunners.

"The big Bobs are on the way," said the sergeant, in speaking of the preparations that were going on for the great drive.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Alfred.

"Oh, that's the term we use for the 75's," he replied.

"They are the fellows we must see," said Ralph, as they walked down the hill.

"When did that fellow say the 75's would come up?" asked Alfred the following morning.

"He said they were on the way now," answered Ralph. "Suppose we ask the boys."

Every one had heard of the famous 14th, which had done such terrible execution east of Marmelon. It was understood that they were to take up position along the ridge west of Hill 209.

"Let's go over there at once," said Ralph.

It was a long tramp to the top, made doubly tedious and difficult owing to the torn-up condition of the earth. This entire section had been shelled by the French for more than two weeks, and now, in turn, the Germans were bombarding the same region. It would be impossible to give an adequate idea of the nature of the fields over which they traveled. At every convenient spot the light field batteries were stationed, and after numerous inquiries the place selected for the famous battery was located.

Before noon the great field pieces were being transported in a long train through the narrow valley south of the river, while airplanes were circling around continually, a sure indication that something unusual was happening in that particular part of the front.

Below the hill to the west, and entirely out of sight of the German observation posts, was a deep ravine through which an emergency railroad had been operated, and a great tractor was drawing the guns headed for the depression.

"That's where they are going to land those guns," said Ralph in excitement. "Look at the men filing up along the ditch."

"Come on," shouted Alfred.

They rushed down the hill, and impatiently awaited the arrival of the first section. The great tractor paid no attention to the soft earth and the shell holes in its path. It rolled along serenely like a thing of life.

"Just in time, boys!" called out a voice from the ammunition van behind the gun.

"It's the sergeant," said Alfred.

"So it is," replied Ralph. "Do you want any help!" he asked, as he rushed over and walked alongside the heavy truck.

"Oh, there'll be plenty to do as soon as we unlimber," replied the sergeant.

"One, two, three, four, five, six. I suppose they'll put them all along this hollow'?"

"What are they bringing that brush for?" asked Ralph. "Look at those trucks filled with trees."

"We're going to plant a grove here," said the sergeant. "That will take some work."

The boys looked at each other. There would be plenty to do. An officer, the commander of the battery, rushed up in a motor car, and, in a business-like manner ordered the spacing of the guns, and the disposition of the racks which held the ammunition. The racks are really pigeon holes in a heavily built frame, each frame holding a hundred of these shells. They are located about ten feet from the gun so as to be within convenient distance for supplying the ordnance after each discharge.

The boys admired the wonderful mechanism, and the sergeant was quick to notice their great interest in the arrangement for rapidly manoeuvering the piece.

"That is the most remarkable weapon that the war has produced," explained the sergeant, as he dismounted. "The Germans have tried to imitate it, but we are always just a little ahead of them, and can fire three shots to every two that they will get out of their best. Wait until tomorrow and you will see some business with the fellows on the other side."

"Good!" said Alfred. "We owe them a thing or two for what they tried to do to us yesterday."

"What's that?" he asked.

"They shelled us all the way through Devil's Cut, but we managed to bring out several of the trucks," said Ralph.

"Why, we heard of that down at the village this morning," said the sergeant. "And you are really the fellows that helped out our men? That was fine! I must tell the captain about it."

He beckoned to the boys. They followed.

After the usual salute, the sergeant, addressing an officer, said: "Do you remember the story we heard at the village this morning about a couple of young fellows who were brave enough to rescue several vans at Devil's Cut yesterday? Here are the boys who did the work."

"I am glad to know you. What! in the aviation service?" he remarked, looking at their uniforms.

"But not now," said Ralph. "We are looking for a chance to help out with the artillery."

The captain looked pleased at this quick introduction of the subject on the part of the boys. Then, turning to the sergeant, he said: "The chapparal, officer; they can help out in that direction." Then, turning to the boys, he continued: "I am afraid you will not have a very easy time of it, for those vans will have to be unloaded and the guns concealed before we commence business."

Then the boys understood. They saluted and accompanied by the sergeant, mounted the first vehicle, which had stopped in the rear of one of the guns. Out came the brush and the poles. Meanwhile, the gun in charge of the sergeant was pushed back, while a squad of men began to level the ground in the deep depression.

The gun was wheeled into position, and the wheels underpinned with timbers curiously laid together and tamped, making a solid foundation. Then began the work of concealment, so that those prized pieces of the French artillery would be safe from the prying eyes of the German air fleet.

"Now, boys," said the sergeant, addressing the special squad delegated for the building of the chapparal, "plant several of the heavy poles with the brushy tops on each side of the gun; then stretch wires across and hang the small brush to them. Be sure to distribute them irregularly, so as to make it as natural as possible."

Shovels and picks were now employed feverishly to dig the holes and plant the poles. The wires were strung and the decorations added, not only along and around the location of each gun, but in the spaces between the pieces. The vans came up continually with new burdens of boughs, until the boys thought there would be no end to this new species of arbor culture.

"Ralph, do you think we could spot this place at a distance of five thousand feet in a swift Morane?" asked Alfred.

"I should say not," replied Ralph, "but there is one thing I should do if I had anything to say about it."

"And what is that?" asked the captain, who overheard the remark.

"I'd completely cover the breech of the gun and the ammunition case," he answered.

"And why?" asked the captain, with a smile.

"Because the merest glimpse of shiny metal is likely to be noticed when flying. I have seen that many times when flying, and Lieutenant Guyon always told us to watch for it," replied Ralph.

"You are right," answered the captain. "That will be your work. Here, men, follow the instruction of these boys as to the placing of the boughs."

The sergeant showed his pleasure at the order, for he somehow felt himself to be sponsor for the boys. "You've got the old man going," he whispered to the boys.

"Shall I go to the next gun?" inquired Alfred, addressing the captain.

"By all means; orderly, instruct the workers to follow the direction of the young men," said the captain.