A few steps through the tunnel brought them to a large cave-like room, furnished with table and chairs, four bunks and a store cupboard. Two officers were taking a late luncheon. "Let me introduce Burton, V.C., D.S.O., one of our spotters," said Cay. "Captain Adams, Mr. Mortimer." "Hullo, Burton? So it’s you. How d’ye do?" said the captain, shaking hands. "Haven’t seen you for an age. Have a drink?" "A cosy little place, this," said Burton, as he quaffed a mug of cider. "H’m! Pretty fair. We’re proof against anything but a ’Jack Johnson.’ They haven’t discovered us yet. We’ve had a few pip-squeaks and four-twos, by accident. We make better practice, I think." "You missed a chance this morning." "How’s that?" "Well, that mill, you know, just across the way--the Huns’ divisional headquarters." "Across the way! It’s five miles--and a hill between!" Burton, who knew Captain Adams of old, ignored the interruption. It was an easy amusement to "draw" Adams. "With a little promptitude, and--h’m--accuracy, you might have bagged the whole lot; and who knows if Big or Little Willy mightn’t have been there on a visit? But you were so slow getting to work that they all got away--except the cooks." "But, hang it all! I gave the order ’Battery action’ one second after we got the first call from O.P. and...." "Yes, but your first shell plugged into a cabbage patch half a mile to the left." "O.P. reported 300 yards," snorted the captain indignantly. "Wanted to spare your feelings, old man. As I was saying, it only scared the Huns and gave them time to clear out. The second shell was just about as far to the right: demolished a pigsty." "Come now, how the deuce do you know that?" "Well, the divisional cooks started to make sauerkraut and sausage----" At this point Adams noticed that his subalterns were writhing with the effort to contain their laughter; and perceiving at last that he was being "chipped," he caught Burton by the collar and hurled him towards one of the bunks. This was the opening move of a scrimmage which might have continued until both were breathless had not Adams suddenly remembered himself. "Gad, Burton, this won’t do!" he said. "Bad example to those young innocents" (indicating the subalterns). "Quite like old times at school, eh? But really----" "How long have you been a captain, Adams?" "Gazetted a fortnight ago; it came through orders a week later. Must give up skylarking now, you know. Have another drink." They sat down, compared notes, talked over old times: the conversation became general. "Trench raids are becoming more common," said Cay presently. "You heard what happened the other day?" "What was that?"