"We will go back and pick up the sergeant," he said. "But first I shall send a man down one of the communication trenches to learn if the enemy are numerous in the second-line trenches."
"How long will that take?" Dick whispered.
"At least ten minutes."
"Then may I try to penetrate a little further east along this line?"
"Why not?"
"I will try to be back soon," Dick promised. Even in the darkness these Allied officers exchanged salutes smartly. Then, gripping his automatic tightly, and realizing that he was now "on his own," as the British Tommies put it, he disappeared into the nearest traverse.
Prescott did not hurry. He had nothing to expect from his own little prowl, and his purpose in going alone had been to develop his knowledge of this new kind of soldier's work.
Sixty or seventy yards Dick had progressed when, in a traverse, he thought he heard low voices ahead.
"The enemy, if any one!" he thought, with a start, halting quickly. Straining his ears, he listened. Undoubtedly there were voices somewhere ahead, though he could distinguish no word that was spoken.
"As I haven't seen an enemy yet, I'm going to do so if I can," the young captain instantly resolved.