Most of the drills were for the purpose of getting the new soldiers in good physical shape, fit to stand the hard work that would come later. To the three motor boys it was much the same sort of thing they had gone through when training for football. There were the preliminary steps, the slow movements, followed by speeding-up practice and then hard driving. In the course of a few weeks they learned how to march in unison, how to go through certain parts of the rifle drill without making it look too ragged, and finally, one day, orders were issued for bayonet drill. “This is beginning to look like real war, now,” said Ned in delight, as he and his chums got their guns and bayonets ready for the work. “What is it to be, trench or with the bags?” asked Bob. “Bags,” answered Jerry, who had been reading the orders. “The trench work comes later.” There are several kinds of bayonet drill and exercise, and among them are trench and bag work. In the former, which is only used after the youths have become somewhat familiar with the weapon, there are two lines of soldiers. One is down in a trench, and they are “attacked” by another line standing above them, the theory being that the party outside the trench is the attacking one. Bag bayonet work is something on the same scale as tackling the dummy in football practice. On a wooden framework a number of canvas bags, filled with sawdust, shavings, hay or other soft material, are suspended. On each bag, which swings freely by two ropes, are painted two white dots. These, in a measure, correspond to the scarlet heart on the buffer of a fencer. Standing in a row before the swinging bags, with leveled bayonets, the young soldiers endeavor to stab through the object as near the white spots as possible. This is to train their eyes. Ned, Bob, and Jerry, with their comrades, were marched to the practice ground, and then, after some preliminary instruction and illustrative work by men proficient in the drill, the lads were allowed to do it themselves. “It looks easy, but it’s hard,” declared Bob, when he had made several wild lunges, to the no small danger of the man next him. “Take it easy, Chunky,” advised Jerry. “You’ve got more than a week to stay here. Go slow.” Pug Kennedy, who was stationed next to Ned, had done better than any of the others. Perhaps his proficiency with his fists stood him in good stead. However that may have been, he won commendation from the officer in charge. “Now for a general attack!” came the orders, after a while. “I want to see how you’d act if you were told to go over the top and smash a crowd of Germans! Lively now!” The boys went at it with a will, one or two fairly ripping the bags from their fastenings. Suddenly there was a cry of pain, and Jerry saw Ned stagger in the line, and drop his rifle. Then Ned fell, and on the back of his olive shirt there appeared a crimson stain. Ned had been stabbed by a bayonet. CHAPTER XIX A CAVE-IN