"So much the better," replied Bart. "There'll be that much less chance of a Heinie seeing us if he takes the trouble to look down here." "So this is where we've got to hang out until our boys get here," remarked Billy, grinning. "It reminds me of the Waldorf-Astoria--it's so different." "Never mind," said Frank cheerfully, "it's a thousand per cent. better than a Hun prison camp, and don't you forget it!" "You said a mouthful that time," replied the irrepressible Billy, with more force than elegance. CHAPTER XV THE FOUR-FOOTED ENEMY "The first thing to do is to make a barricade of these barrels," said Frank, when the four privates had made an inventory of what the cellar afforded in the way of defense. "They will help us in putting up a fight if the Huns discover us here," agreed Bart. "Let's see if there's anything in them," suggested Billy. "Swell chance," commented Tom. "They smell as if they'd had wine or beer in them, and you can trust the Heinies to have drained them to the last drop. Not that I want any of the stuff, but if they were full they'd stop a bullet better than if they were empty." They tested the barrels by knocking against them with the butts of their rifles and the hollow sound they gave back proved that Tom had conjectured truly. "Dry as the Desert of Sahara," pronounced Frank. "And that reminds me," said Bart. "What are we going to do for water to drink? We've got grub enough in our kits to last us a couple of days in a pinch. But we can't hold out long without something to wash it down with." "We won't worry about that yet," said Frank. "I stepped into a puddle over in one corner while we were going round here. I suppose that came from the rain we had last night. It doesn't fit my idea of what drinking water ought to be, but it's a mighty sight better than dying of thirst." They got out their stock of food and decided that with careful rationing they had enough for two days. "And that will be plenty," prophesied Billy. "Our fellows will be here before long. Perhaps this very night we'll be with the old bunch again." "I wish I had your cheery disposition," growled Tom. "When any one hands you a lemon----" "I make lemonade out of it," came back Billy, and there was a general laugh. "That's the way to talk," said Frank. "The Huns haven't got us yet, and even this hole is better than a German prison camp." "You bet!" responded Billy. "From all I hear those places are something fierce. A fellow had better die fighting than die of abuse or starvation."