The place where the fire had been was still a heap of ruins, Mrs. Hopkins wrote Jerry, and it had not been cleared because of a dispute over the insurance money. Mr. Cardon, the Frenchman, had recovered from his experience, though he still talked about the loss of his money, which, he insisted, a man with a crooked nose had stolen. “I think his story is true,” wrote Mrs. Hopkins. “But nobody has seen the man with the crooked nose, and there is positively no trace of Mr. Baker’s watch nor of my diamond brooch. Mr. Martley’s creditors have found his affairs in such a mess that there will be next to nothing coming to them--so if the watch and brooch are not recovered we will have to stand the loss ourselves.” “Isn’t that the limit!” cried Jerry, as he read this portion of the letter to his chums. “It sure is,” remarked Ned. “I’ll bet my dad feels sore,” put in Bob. Professor Snodgrass wrote to the boys, telling them he hoped soon to pay them a visit. He was finishing cataloging the bugs he had caught on his last trip to Cresville, he stated, and would soon be on the lookout for more. It was two weeks after Ned’s injury by a bayonet in the hands of Pug Kennedy, and he was fully himself again, that, one afternoon as he and his chums were getting ready for hand grenade drill, a cry came from a section of the camp near the artillery unit. There was a series of shouts following a salvo of heavy guns. “There’s been an accident!” exclaimed Jerry, as he saw a number of officers and men running. “Cannon exploded, maybe,” said Bob. “It didn’t sound so,” remarked Ned. “The noise wasn’t any louder than usual. But it’s something,” he added. “There go the ambulances!” As he spoke a number of the vehicles dashed across the parade ground toward the place that seemed to be the center of excitement. “Come on!” cried Ned. “We’ve got to see what this is!” The motor boys started to run, followed by several of their new chums, and on all sides there were questions. “What is it? What happened?” A sentry, who did not leave his post, gave the first information. “A line of trenches caved in!” he said. “A lot of the men are buried alive!” CHAPTER XX A PRACTICE MARCH Had such an accident as had occurred at Camp Dixton taken place in the midst of a big city street, there would have been so much excitement and conflict that the result would have been magnified in seriousness. As it was there was enough seriousness to it, but it was minimized by the fact that the accident happened in the midst of a military camp, and among men who are used to meeting resolutely every sort of accident and emergency. Short and sharp were the orders issued. Those who could not be of help were halted before they reached the place, and were held in readiness for any work that would be needed.