Upon seeing the flier the soldiers became panic stricken. They declared that all were in danger from bombs and darts, and begged the boys to take refuge in the trenches, where only lay safety.
"Let's wheel the Grey Eagle under those trees," suggested Ned, "and get into the trenches with them. It is safer than out here!"
No time was lost in carrying out this suggestion, and friendship having been established by Ned's safe return, all were soon at ease in the somewhat crowded quarters. Their anxiety was not lessened, however, for the German flier proceeded to pass above their position, dropping an occasional bomb. This continued until darkness, accompanied by a fog and rain, compelled him to retire to the shelter of his own lines.
Jimmie's hunger, added to the discomfort of the trench, compelled the boys to consider a change. Finding repairs to the damaged trench possible, a detachment of soldiers had appeared. They were joined by the two with whom the lads had become so well acquainted. "Let's fly back to the aviation camp and get supper!" Jimmie proposed. "I have got another of those bad colds!"
In a short time the boys had mounted the Grey Eagle and were away from the scene. Below and all about them lay the fog. Sounds came faintly up to their ears. Suddenly a piercing scream indicated the passage of another of the giant shells. A roar told that it had landed and exploded. Ned steered away in another direction. Below them a great flash of light accompanied a terrific roar. A cannon had been fired.
"Where are we, Ned?" quavered Jimmie. "Can you tell?"
"We're right over a battery!" replied Ned, shifting the levers. "They seem to be firing and fired at! We're between two fires!"
"We're lost, that's what we are," cried Jimmie, "and no compass!"