Private Berger had been summoned to lead the party through the intricate system of communication trenches to the front.  Berger, who was a short, squat fellow with a sallow face and uneasy black eyes, took his seat beside the soldier chauffeur.

For only a little more than a mile the Americans proceeded in the car, which then halted, and all hands stepped out into the dark night.

“From here on we must walk,” announced Captain Ribaut.  “Berger, be sure that you take us by the most direct route.  Do not take us into the Hun trenches to-night.”

“I know the way excellently, my captain,” Berger replied briefly.

For some distance they walked over open country, made dangerous, however, by the presence of gaping shell-holes.  Runners, soldiers and others passed them going to or from the trenches.  The artillery duel, save for an occasional stray shot, had ceased on both sides.

“The road is steeper here,” said Berger, halting after he had led his party half a mile through the darkness.  “We now go up hill.”

It was harder climbing, going up that incline.  A quarter of a mile of this, and Lieutenant Terry suddenly found himself following the guide through a cut in between two walls of dirt higher than his head.

“We are in the communication trenches,” said Berger in French.  Noll gathered the meaning of the remark.

At every few yards there was a twist or a turn in the trench.  At times they came to points where two trenches crossed each other.  Had it been left to the Americans to find their own way they would have been hopelessly confused in this network and maze of intersecting ditches.  Berger, however, proceeded with the certainty of one long familiar with the locality.

“Here is one of our defence trenches,” said Captain Ribaut, halting at last and calling softly to Berger to stop.  “This is our fifth line trench, formerly our third line.  We have no men here, you will note, nor in the next line.  In case of a heavy general attack men would be rushed up from the rear to occupy these two lines of trenches.  We will proceed, Berger.”

They were soon at the fourth line trench.  At the third line trench they found sentries of the reserves on duty.

“The rest of the reserves are sleeping,” Ribaut explained.  “You will see their dug-out entrances as we pass along this trench, for I am taking you to the quarters of the battalion commander.”

It was necessary to proceed along this third line trench for nearly a quarter of a mile before they came to a dug-out entrance before which a sentry and two runners crouched on the ground.

“Captain Ribaut and American officers present their compliments, and would see Major Ferrus,” explained Ribaut.

A runner entered the underground shelter, speedily returning and signing to the visitors to descend the steps.  Dick and his friends found themselves in an underground room of about eight by twelve.  Around the walls were several bunks.  At a table, which held a telephone instrument, sat Major Ferrus and two junior officers.