He couldn't answer. I'll bet he knows more about the
man that fired that shot at you than he is willing to admit."
"It looks like it," Hal agreed. "From his actions, I would judge that the
shot was meant for him."
"Exactly," said Chester, "and he knows who it was that fired it."
"Well, there is no use talking about it," declared Hal. "We can't
possibly figure it out ourselves. One thing, though, we shall have to be
on our guard. The unknown enemy may not know that Stubbs has moved and
may try again."
"Right," said Chester. "We'll have to sleep with one eye open."
"Oh, we're safe enough to-night," said Hal. "He'll figure we'll be on the
watch and will postpone his next visit for a day or two. By the way, old
man, how do you feel?"
"First rate. I'll be as good as new in the morning."
"I hope so. In that event we had better get a little sleep."
"Then you don't think it necessary for one of us to stand watch?"
"No; here goes for bed."
CHAPTER IX
IN THE TRENCHES
In some manner, known only to himself, Anthony Stubbs, war correspondent
of the New York _Gazette_, had ingratiated himself with General Petain,
the French commander at Verdun.
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