Boy Scouts with Joffre; Or, In the Trenches in Belgium

by G. Harvey Ralphson

Turning a corner, the cause of the merriment was at once apparent. One soldier was seated on an empty provision case, his face covered with lather. Another stood beside him, endeavoring to play the part of a barber, but with very indifferent success, judging by the expletives from the lathered one. All seemed hugely enjoying the circumstance.

As the officer entered he called out a low order. Instantly every man was on his feet standing at attention. Even the lathered soldier stood. Simultaneously their hands were raised in military salute, and remained so until the salute had been returned by the officer.

Picking up the telephone, the officer spoke rapidly for a few moments, then replaced the instrument and directed a question to the man watching from the window. That individual replied at some length, pointing out toward the same clump of trees that had been indicated to Ned by the officer himself. Evidently something unusual was taking place.

A sharp exclamation from the soldier on watch brought the others to their feet. He was excitedly pointing toward the trees and speaking rapidly. Ned saw a cloud of white smoke appear in the grove.

Following the glances of the men, he was startled to see hurtling through the air a large black object. It appeared to be approaching their position. Ned clearly followed the missile until it fell to earth but a short distance away. Scarcely had it touched the earth before their burrow was shaken and rocked by a mighty explosion.

Dirt fell from the roof in showers. Ned had clapped his hands to his ears as the missile fell, expecting an explosion, and thus did not suffer the painful shock that would otherwise have been felt.

Glancing from the opening he saw an immense cloud of heavy black smoke hovering all about the place where the shell had landed. An awful odor crept into the place, nearly choking the men.

Again a cry from the man on watch startled Ned. Another shell was coming! He turned to run back along the passageway, but stumbled on the uneven floor and fell. A shout from the officer roused the boy.

Looking backward, he could see a revolver leveled in his direction, and lost no time in scrambling to his feet. Just in time he dodged around an angle in the passage. Shot after shot came tearing into the dirt at his side. Luckily the officer's aim was poor.