The boys looked at each other. There would be plenty to do. An officer, the commander of the battery, rushed up in a motor car, and, in a business-like manner ordered the spacing of the guns, and the disposition of the racks which held the ammunition. The racks are really pigeon holes in a heavily built frame, each frame holding a hundred of these shells. They are located about ten feet from the gun so as to be within convenient distance for supplying the ordnance after each discharge. The boys admired the wonderful mechanism, and the sergeant was quick to notice their great interest in the arrangement for rapidly manoeuvering the piece. "That is the most remarkable weapon that the war has produced," explained the sergeant, as he dismounted. "The Germans have tried to imitate it, but we are always just a little ahead of them, and can fire three shots to every two that they will get out of their best. Wait until tomorrow and you will see some business with the fellows on the other side." "Good!" said Alfred. "We owe them a thing or two for what they tried to do to us yesterday." "What's that?" he asked. "They shelled us all the way through Devil's Cut, but we managed to bring out several of the trucks," said Ralph. "Why, we heard of that down at the village this morning," said the sergeant. "And you are really the fellows that helped out our men? That was fine! I must tell the captain about it." He beckoned to the boys. They followed. After the usual salute, the sergeant, addressing an officer, said: "Do you remember the story we heard at the village this morning about a couple of young fellows who were brave enough to rescue several vans at Devil's Cut yesterday? Here are the boys who did the work." "I am glad to know you. What! in the aviation service?" he remarked, looking at their uniforms. "But not now," said Ralph. "We are looking for a chance to help out with the artillery." The captain looked pleased at this quick introduction of the subject on the part of the boys. Then, turning to the sergeant, he said: "The chapparal, officer; they can help out in that direction." Then, turning to the boys, he continued: "I am afraid you will not have a very easy time of it, for those vans will have to be unloaded and the guns concealed before we commence business." Then the boys understood. They saluted and accompanied by the sergeant, mounted the first vehicle, which had stopped in the rear of one of the guns. Out came the brush and the poles. Meanwhile, the gun in charge of the sergeant was pushed back, while a squad of men began to level the ground in the deep depression. The gun was wheeled into position, and the wheels underpinned with timbers curiously laid together and tamped, making a solid foundation. Then began the work of concealment, so that those prized pieces of the French artillery would be safe from the prying eyes of the German air fleet.