“Say, you were too mild with Hoboken. I’d ’a’ told him we was gettin’ gas to beat the devil, and we had to have some doin’s of our own. Them birds don’t worry about what _we’re_ gettin’ unless we holler loud.” This from the draftsman-sergeant. “There!” The adjutant looked up at the ceiling. “Listen!... _Boche_ aeroplane. I’ve heard it quite a spell. Directing their fire by the flash of our batteries.... Gawd! Why don’t we get more aeroplanes of our own!” The telephone again, and Jimmy reported with what Kendall conceived to be relief, “He says he’ll have the hundred and fifty-fives and gas going in ten minutes.” “Say,” somebody complained, “that _boche_ aeroplane must be mired in a cloud. It sounds like it was standing still in one spot.” “Stuck or not, she’s up there without any friendly intentions.... Say, we ought to go over to the States and shoot them peace-talkin’ pups.” It was the sergeant speaking again. “Anybody that wants to make peace with the _boche_!... They hain’t got no right pollutin’ the atmosphere....” There came a pause while all waited hopefully for the “big stuff” that had been promised them—and presently it came. Kendall had believed the ultimate in sound had been achieved before, but this—this was impossible. Such an extreme from silence could not be. It was cosmic. It was awful. He seemed to be standing in the very center of such an upheaval as might have created worlds.... It upreared to a very ultimate climax of sound, to a single note made up of a multitude of gigantic sub-tones. It was amazing, it was terrifying, it was gratifying.... “Fritz is gettin’ his good,” said the sergeant, with profound satisfaction. This continued an hour, and then gradually subsided. The German fire had become desultory—and then ceased. They had drawn upon themselves more than they liked by their evening’s strafing.... The silence that ensued was startlingly loud. One could hear it.... “I’m for some grub if we can rustle it,” said a raw-boned lieutenant. The lieutenant-colonel yawned and stretched his arms high over his head. “Oh-hum!... Darn these quiet nights,” he said, with sincerity. “I thought for a while there was going to be something stirring.” “Oh, I’m willing to have a rest once in a while,” said Jimmy. “I’m going to sleep. Gimme all these quiet nights you want to....” Kendall looked at his watch. It was half past two in the morning.... Quiet nights! He wondered if they were making game of him, but as he looked back on the conduct of these young men during that night he was persuaded of their sincerity.... And he—he had fancied himself present at the unloosing of Inferno....