“Let’s get down to the old hole and lie quiet till it’s time to fire,” and Jimmy crawled down to what he and O. D. called “the hole.” It was their home. The boys had stretched their canvas shelter-halves over the top of a crater made by a giant shell. Underneath this protection was their stock and store of worldly possessions, which consisted of an odd sock, a suit of dirty underclothes, and a little box that held a few personal trinkets. Raincoats, and what little extra underclothes they once owned, had been lost in the advance from Verdun. Jimmy got to “the hole” first. “Great Lord, O. D.! Here’s some mail. Ration cart just brought it up from the _échelon_. Guess it’s all for you. No here’s three for me,” he cried, excitedly. Mail it was. The first that they had seen in nearly a month. Jimmy had three letters from Mary and in one was two pictures. “To hell with this _guerre_!” shouted Jimmy, jumping up. “What’s the matter, Jimmy? Get good news from some of the boys?” asked O. D. “Boys hell!” answered Jimmy. “They’re from Mary—” then he stopped short and felt kind of foolish. “Oh!” exclaimed O. D. “I knew Mary would write if I told her to. I’ve got some from her and mother.” The two boys read their letters on in silence. The more that Jimmy read of Mary’s letters the more he was willing to believe the rumors that had been coming in by radio that the Germans might sign an armistice. In fact, you could have told Jimmy almost anything at that moment and he would have believed it. He studied Mary’s new pictures with the one that he had taken from O. D. O. D. caught him in the act. “Mary gave me one of those seashore pictures before I left, but I lost it some place lately,” said O. D., looking at the two new pictures. “Yes, I guess you did, O. D. I swiped it from you. Don’t mind, do you, old man? I wanted a picture of Mary.” “Did you take that one, Jimmy?” “_Oui_.” “Anything you do, old boy, is O. K. with me. You know that, Jimmy, don’t you?” asked the brother of Mary. “Bet I do, O. D. Funny how guys get to be pals up here, ain’t it! Back in the States you and me would have passed each other up, most likely. Out here it’s mighty darn different. Makes a fellow get down under the skin of things. I feel like I’ve known you all my life, O. D.” “So do I, Jimmy. I never knew any fellow as good as I’ve come to know you.” “Well, when men get close to dyin’ with each other, when they’ve starved side by side and damn near froze to death under the same pieces of cheesecloth, it ain’t any wonder that they find out who and what each other is. Do you know, it’s gettin’ colder every night? We’ve got to rustle up some more coverin’ soon or we’ll pass out one of these nights. It’s that cold mud underneath us that puts ice in the bones. Look here, O. D., don’t you wake up in the night no more and listen to me talk in my sleep ’bout cold and put your coat over me. Keep it on your side. I’m more used to this stuff than you,” commanded Jimmy.