“How do things look to you?” asked Neil, crawling in the little shelter tent.
“I was just sayin’ to O. D. that I’ve got a hunch—just like the one before the battle of Seicheprey—that somethin’ is goin’ to come off. Mighty damn quiet, though. But it’s always that way before a real racket.”
“What time have you got, O. D.?” asked Neil.
“Darn near midnight. Jimmy and I have been sittin’ around talking a good deal. What are you doing up?”
“I’m on guard to-night.”
The shrill blast of a pocket whistle interrupted him and caused the three of them to jump a little.
“Callin’ to the guns, boys,” whispered Jimmy. “I knew somethin’ was in the wind. Get ready, O. D.”
“I’ve got to beat it, then,” said Neil, getting out.
In a few seconds Jimmy and O. D. were running toward their gun-pit. Soon afterward the other members of the crew were at their stations.
Just as the executive officer was giving out the firing data the world seemed caught in the vortex of a terrible electrical storm. Up in front of Battery C’s position a barrage from the seventy-five’s crashed into life. Big guns away behind the position began to bay.