"Let's take a breathing spell," suggested Don.
"Most cheerfully, mes cher amis," said Dunstan.
Seating themselves on the edge of an old shell-crater, the three rested until the effects of their strenuous exertions had entirely disappeared. When they started once more they had gone more than half-way across the field when a figure popped into view over the crest of the opposite ridge with almost the suddenness of a Jack-in-the-Box. It was a poilu—evidently a sentry; for they could see him, stationed by the edge of the trees, making energetic motions, as if he wished to hurry them on.
"I suppose we must be breaking some military regulation and are liable to arrest," said Chase, half jokingly.
To his surprise, Don and Dunstan, looking considerably startled, began to cast apprehensive glances toward the east, at the same time increasing their pace. And then, just as the young chap from Maine was about to put into words a query that had flashed into his mind a most alarming thing occurred.
It was the sharp crack of a rifle and the zip of a bullet, as it struck the ground but a few yards distant and plowed up and scattered a bit of earth.
A terrifying fact was revealed to all—they were in full view of the German "snipers."[7] That broad, peaceful-looking field was in reality a miniature "No Man's Land," where none might tarry for a single instant and expect to live.