Tom and Ollie shuddered as Harper whispered the names, as they had been passed along from man to man. One of the killed was Henry Turner, as fine a fellow as ever breathed, as Tom himself learned when they had played guard positions opposite each other on opposing boarding school football teams. “Too bad,” Ollie muttered. “Lots worse that could be better spared.” They were halted here for nearly ten minutes, the officers waiting for any further evidence that the enemy was aware of their movement, but apparently it was but a chance shot, for no other followed it. They resumed the advance, but even more cautiously than before. They could sense rather than see now that before and about them on either side were thousands upon thousands of their own men, coming up in separate companies, becoming battalions and these in turn regiments, until whole brigades and entire divisions lay stretched along the line, waiting for the opening of the tremendous artillery bombardment and barrage that was to screen their final advance into the enemy’s lines. It was as Company C was entering the second line trenches from a tramway that an incident occurred that caused both mirth and many a heart pang. The leading men in the first platoon came to a sudden halt and for no apparent reason did not immediately take up progress. There was grumbling and growling, punctuated by sounds of suppressed mirth. When the delay had lengthened into minutes, and couriers had arrived from the commanders of both D and E companies, bearing their respects and asking if the line would not move on, Captain McCallum himself pressed impatiently forward to determine the cause of the hold-up. He found the men in the lead maintaining a respectful distance from the rear end of an army mule that stood, with head down, ready to kick out at any moment, and effectively blocking the passageway. “Buck” Granger, who was in the lead, informed the captain that the animal was adamant to all coaxing. “See if you can slide by,” Captain McCallum ordered. “Buck” tried it. He was about midships of the mule when it suddenly leaned over against him. He was caught as though in a trap. “Oh, gosh,” he panted in misery. “What’s the matter now?” the captain demanded. “Nothing,” Granger answered with what breath he had left, “only it’s Maud, and she’s got me fast, paying up back debts.” “Three or four of you huskies try to lift her out of the trench,” the officer then ordered, and as the designated number applied their strength to trying to budge the mule upward, half a dozen others clambered out of the trench to lend a helping hand from above. But it was a useless effort. Not only were the men risking their life in futile efforts to raise the heavy beast, but the men above leaned over and whispered to the captain, “No use, there’s a high wire fence on either side.” By this time the Germans—apparently without any knowledge of the movement beyond their lines, however—were letting go occasional shells.