unwarlike silence and inactivity in the immediate vicinity. Now and then in the distance could be heard the thunder of heavy cannon or the nasty spit-snap of machine guns.

Conditions appearing to be satisfactory, Lieut. Tourtelle gave the agreed signal, which consisted of placing one hand on the left shoulder of each of the scouts, and the latter climbed up over the sloping embankment at several points in the big cup and crept cautiously out over No Man's Land.

By this time the fog had lifted, and stars were beginning to peep out through rifts in the cloud-swept sky. Added to the muddiness of the ground, the chill of the atmosphere rendered life in this sector exceedingly uncomfortable.

Each member of this patrol went alone out over the rising slope of land that lay between the front line trenches of the Canadians and the common enemy of the Allies. They either crouched low or crawled on all fours. Each scout was assigned to a section of the territory as clearly defined as possible in order that there might be no crossing of paths or mistaking one another for members of a boche patrol.

Irving took a course to the right, advancing with a cautious, low crouch. His instructions were to proceed about 100 yards along a line parallel to the trenches and then advance toward the enemy line to see what he could discover.

He proceeded the distance stipulated southward as nearly as he could estimate over a half-mud and half-sod surface and then found himself close to a thicket of low bushes, the extent of which he knew to be not very great, for he had observed this feature of the terrain in the daylight. He decided that he ought to examine these bushes carefully, but realized that he must not take much time for the investigation, as each member of the patrol had been limited to half an hour in which to gather material for his report.

Private Ellis, therefore, decided to make a detour around the bushes, listening meanwhile for any sound of moving bodies among the leaves and twigs. The detection of such sounds would be ample reason for sweeping the patch with machine gun bullets.

He made almost the entire circuit without detecting the faintest noise that could command the respect of his suspicion, and was about to turn around and creep back toward the enemy lines, when a bunch of "very lights," fired from boche pistols, threw their brilliance over the scene. The unwelcome illumination was prolonged in a manner that Irving had not witnessed before. The lights floated down slowly, being suspended in the air by small parachute arrangements that opened out with the increasing resistance of the air.

But something else startled the boy even more than these lights. Instinctively he remained stock still in the crouching position in which the illumination caught him. But right in front of him, not more than twenty feet away were the figures of two soldiers. They were standing erect and facing each other. One of the faces was turned well toward Private Ellis, who could hardly smother an exclamation of astonishment as he recognized him.

It was Lieut. Tourtelle!

"What in the world does he think he's doing?" Irving questioned to himself. "He doesn't seem to be very anxious to protect himself. He hasn't a pistol, knife or bomb in his hand."

The lights went out, and presently a new cause for wonder came to the ears of the crouching boy.

"Kamerad!"

Could he believe his senses? No, he wouldn't. It came to him very clearly, that utterance, from the spot where Lieut. Tourtelle stood. And yet, this was impossible. It must surely have been the enemy soldier who uttered the word of friendly greeting.

CHAPTER IV

"KAMERAD!"

"That's a piece of boche treachery as sure as I'm a Yank fighting with the Canadians," was Irving's speedy conclusion after witnessing the scene exposed by the lights and hearing the salute which he decided must have come from the enemy scout. "That's the way they work it! They're noted for treachery of that very sort."

"Kamerad!"

The salute was repeated, scarcely above a whisper, but clear enough for Irving to hear it distinctly. And with the utterance of that word another thrill of apprehension, doubt, confusion, electrified the mind and body of the listening scout, who had not been discovered by Tourtelle and the boches when the lights illuminated the field, undoubtedly, because he happened to be crouching close to a bush large enough to cast a shadow about him.

"My!" exclaimed the boy under his breath; "I'd 'ave sworn that word came from the very spot where Tourtelle was standing. They can't 'ave changed positions so quickly. And yet, I must be mistaken. Common sense tells me it must 'ave been the boche who gave that salute. I wonder what's the matter with my hearing.

"But I'll have to go to that miserable 'shave-tail's' rescue if the other fellow plays a trick on him. I think I'll get close and see what's going on."

Irving crept cautiously toward the spot where he had seen the second lieutenant when the lights blazed forth. The distance was so short that he fancied he ought to have been able to see both the officer and the enemy scout from his position near the bush. The boche, unless he had moved since the lights went out, was a similar distance away from the watcher and about twenty-five feet to Private Ellis' right.

In a few seconds Irving reached approximately the spot where he had seen Lieut. Tourtelle, when the "very lights" illuminated the vicinity, and was surprised and just a little worried on failing to find him still there. Then he began to look around him to see if his eyes could not pierce the surrounding darkness far enough to discover the form of the officer. His search was interrupted by another startling incident.

Something struck the calf of his right leg a rather severe blow, and the boy gripped his trench-knife in one hand and his pistol in the other, ready to defend himself if attacked. Nothing further of disturbing nature followed immediately, and Irving stooped down to examine the object that had struck him. It was a short, stout club of the kind known in No Man's Land as a "persuader stick," which can be used effectively, like a policeman's billy, in the dark.

"Who in the world threw that?--not the boche, surely," the boy muttered. "It's like the one I've seen in 'the turtle's' possession; but what could he want to throw it back here for?"

"Kamerad!"

"There it goes again," buzzed through Irving's head. "I don't believe it's a trap set for me, but maybe it is for the 'looie,' and he may be just fool enough to fall for it. I owe it to--to--Uncle Sam to save him, if I can, though I'm afraid Uncle Sam 'u'd be better off without 'im."

Private Ellis put his knife and pistol away, gripped his club, and advanced toward the spot whence the last "kamerad" seemed to have come. As he moved ahead slowly he became conscious gradually that a dark object stood before him a few yards away. Would he be able to determine whether it was friend or foe? He was in doubt on this question and determined to exercise the greatest care and