They again crossed the river, and at six o'clock that night a new line was formed, and the spades and picks were again brought into use. The booming of cannon was incessant, and, although they tried to get some sleep after midnight, they were frequently aroused by the marching of troops. At daylight they were again marched out of the trenches, and a quarter of a mile from the last trench halted to partake of breakfast.
The march was directly south, and at noon they reached a town of some importance, called Chauny. They went through without halting, crossed the river Oise, and at four o'clock halted on the eastern banks of a stream, which flowed northwardly. Here they waited for orders. A picturesque bridge spanned the stream, and the boys wandered across. West of the river was a broad expanse of country, perfectly level, and thousands of people from the nearby villages lined the road, all crossing to the west.
All were excited, and seemed to be going toward the narrow road, which led to the left, and, naturally, the boys followed the movement of the crowd. Their curiosity was soon satisfied, for beyond was a sight which caused their hearts to beat with joy. Fully a dozen airplanes were drawn up in line, and the boys started forward on a run that seemed to instill the same activity in many others present.
"There's a Morane," said Ralph.
"Yes; and that's Tom getting out of the machine," shouted Alfred, as they rushed up and greeted Tom, who looked at them in astonishment.
"And how did you get here?" he inquired.
"Came over with the troops," explained Alfred.
"With what troops?" he was asked.
"Don't know," answered Ralph, "but they are from Essex."
"Well, we've been on duty for a day directly over the lines east of St. Quentin," said Tom.