rendered the three chums incapable of action for the moment. They just stood and looked at the place where their little store of wood had been hidden. Now it was gone, and with it the hope of a hot supper from that particular source.  
"What are we going to do?" asked Bob blankly.  
"We ought to go down to the post where that sneak is and get the wood back," declared Ned. "And tell his chums what sort of fellow they have bunking with 'em!"  
"No, don't do that," advised Jerry, who had cooled down after his first passionate outburst. "That will make trouble. Noddy would only laugh at us, and some of the others might. It isn't the first time wood has been taken."  
"I was just hungry for something hot," sighed Bob, as he thought of the cold rations.  
"So was I," added Ned. "Isn't there anything we can do?" he went on.  
Jerry looked about. Here and there about the dugout their comrades were eating as best they could, no one, it appeared, having anything hot. It was at a critical period during the fighting, and the commissary and transportation departments were suffering from a temporary breakdown. Still the men had enough to eat, such as it was.  
"Well, we might as well have grub now--even if it is cold," said Jerry, after considering matters. "No telling when we'll have to stand off a Hun raid or go into one ourselves, and then we won't have time to eat."  
"That's so!" agreed Bob, more cheerfully. "It would be fierce if we didn't have anything to chew on at all. But when I catch that Noddy Nixon--well, he'd better watch his step, that's all."  
"He's a coward, and lazy!" declared Ned. "Else he'd rustle his own wood. I had hard work to get that bunch. There was a German sniper who had a pretty fine bead on the place where I saw the sticks, but I went down the trench a way, and began firing at him from there."  
"Did you hit him?" asked Bob eagerly.  
"No, I didn't expect to. But I drew his attention to that particular spot. He thought a sharpshooter was there, and he laid his plans to get him. That took his attention off the pile of wood, and I sneaked out and got it. Now Noddy Nixon has it!"  
"I hope he burns his tongue on the hot soup or coffee or whatever he heats with it," was the most charitable thing Jerry said. And the others echoed this. Their nerves were on edge from the constant fighting and danger they were in, and they were in no mood to be trifled with. And at such times trifles that otherwise would be laughed at assumed large proportions.  
However, there was no help for it. The three chums, as did their comrades in the trenches, ate their supper cold, and then, cleaning themselves as best they could from the wet, sticky mud, they prepared to get what sleep they might until it was their turn to go on duty again.  
The dugout was 

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