"Orders are orders, my boy, we learned that long ago. And when the lieut. wouldn't let us go on, there must be some reason for it. I'm just as anxious to give Fritz his medicine as anyone. Hello, there! Did you hear that queer noise!" "Yes. Sounded like a groan. Listen!" The tide of battle was away from them now, and they were able, above the distant roar, to hear ordinary sounds, which had not been the case when the attack started. The sun was well up now, and the day gave promise of being a fine one--hot, too. And on such a scene the sun shone! Death and devastation brought on by human beasts! "There it is again!" cried Roger, "It sure was a groan." "Somebody around here is alive, at any rate," said Jimmy. There were a number of terribly mangled bodies near them, and it was hardly believable that the groan came from any of those poor forms of what had once been living men. "Over here!" cried Roger suddenly. "The sound came from down in that shell hole!" He pointed to one, on the sides of which was fresh earth, showing that the explosive had recently fallen. "There's no one down in that hole," declared Roger, taking a look. "Yes there is!" asserted Jimmy. "See that shoe sticking out!" He pointed to what seemed but a mound of dirt and stones in the very bottom of the shell crater. And Roger observed that the dirt did not altogether cover a leg and foot. An army shoe was sticking out. "Come on!" cried Jimmy, and the next moment he was sliding down the side of the shell hole. Roger followed, and the two began to roll aside the larger stones that had fallen on the body. The Khaki Boys leaned their rifles against the side of the crater, and took off their gas masks, from where they lining ready for use, in order to work more freely. "The wind isn't right for a gas attack," murmured Roger, as he temporarily deprived himself of this necessary protection. As the boys feverishly worked to uncover the form they heard another loud groan coming from beneath the dirt. "It doesn't seem possible anyone can be alive--like this," panted Roger as he labored at a heavy stone. "Don't talk--work!" snapped Jimmy. "If he's alive, whoever it is, he needs help quick." "Wonder if it's Iggy?" went on Roger. Jimmy's hands flew as do the legs of a dog when he is digging out a buried bone, nor was Roger behind his comrade. They labored at that part of the pile of earth and stones which covered the face and head of the unfortunate soldier. "There--he can breathe if he's alive still!" gasped Jimmy as he straightened up after having lifted aside a board that had fallen over the face of the Sammie they were trying to rescue. And it was this board that undoubtedly saved the unfortunate from dying by suffocation. For the piece of plank had fallen in such a way, being supported on either end by resting on two stones on either side of the man's head, that it kept the dirt and stones away from the face.