"Yes," said Don, slowly.
"Then, just think of all the devices for causing destruction and sudden death which lie concealed everywhere on its narrow width," put in Chase. His morose manner returned in full force. "Nothing that the ingenuity of man can conceive of has been neglected."
"But even that isn't enough to prevent patrols of French and German infantrymen from crawling beyond their own wire entanglements during the night on reconnoitering expeditions," interjected Don. "Whew!" he shivered slightly. "What courage—what sang-froid it must require!"
"Excuse me from trying it," said Chase.
The guns had never ceased rumbling, and occasionally the sharp cracking of rifles or the staccato reports of machine guns, astonishingly clear, jarred over the air.
"Dunstan—your field-glass, if you please!"
It was the aviator's son who spoke.
Silently Dunstan drew the instrument from its case and passed it to his companion.
The boy immediately raised the glass to his eyes and gave a little gasp of pleasure.
Beyond the park, in fact, far beyond the point where its limitations were marked by a row of tall poplars, which, like grim and forbidding sentinels stood by the boundary walls, he could see a field of wheat, waving and rippling in the breeze.