Hal Paine and Chester Crawford crouched low in a shell hole in No Man's Land. All morning they had been there and the day had worn on now into the afternoon. Two hundred yards west of their refuge were the American lines. Sprinters such as Hal and Chester could easily have covered the distance in half a minute; and it was not for want of courage that so far they had failed to make the effort. It was plain common sense that kept them in their present position.…
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