trenches a somewhat hazardous one. Should one of these flares fall on the ground, so that you are between it and the Germans, the only way to escape detection is to lie perfectly motionless until it burns out. All of which tends to make progress slow. It was while one of them was burning itself out, and I was endeavouring to set a safe course between two shell holes and a dead German, that James appeared out of the blue from nowhere. He had six German helmets, a few bayonets, and a variety of other trophies, and was making a noise like a wagonful of saucepans on a cobbled road.
“Dear old boy,” he cried, dropping everything on the ground, “it’s the deuce of a time since I’ve seen you.”
“It is one of the few things for which I can honestly return thanks,” I remarked somewhat shortly. “Would you like a megaphone to tell them I’m coming up to work on that trench in front?”
“What are you going to do?” he demanded.
“Fill it in and mine it when I can find it.”
“Splendid,” he answered. “I’m your man. These,” and he kicked the trophies,
