Suddenly a shot rang out in the sector near the three Motor Boys. They started, and Ned exclaimed:

“Can that be the signal for the attack?”

“No, it doesn’t begin until to-morrow,” said Jerry. “That’s one of our own men. Guess his rifle went off by accident.”

There was a little excitement, but what had caused it the boys could not learn at the time, as they must stay at their posts. But a little later, when their lieutenant came through the trench, Ned, saluting, asked:

“Did one of our sharpshooters get a Hun, Sir?”

“No,” was the answer. “It wasn’t that. Private Nixon was shot.”

“Noddy Nixon shot!” gasped Bob. “How?”

“S. I. W.,” was the terse reply of the officer, as he passed on.


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