For perhaps two minutes the fight continued. Then with a lightning thrust Frank's bayonet found its mark, and the German staggered for a moment, fell headlong and lay still. His fall seemed to take the heart out of the others who were being outfought and pressed back. They wavered, broke and started to flee, but the sharp crack of the corporal's revolver brought one of them to the ground, and the others halted. Up went their hands and from the lips of each came the cry "_Kamerad_!" in token of surrender. The American boys rounded them up and disarmed them. Then the corporal took account of stock. Bart was there panting and flushed with nothing worse than a scalp wound where a rifle butt had glanced from his head. Wilson himself was unhurt. Billy also had come through unscathed, but Tom was nowhere to be seen. An awful fear, a fear that they had never felt in the fighting itself, clutched the hearts of his comrades. Good old Tom, bound to them by a thousand ties of friendship and comradeship--had he met his fate in this desolate stretch of No Man's Land? Frantically they searched among the bodies for one that wore a suit similar to their own. Frank found it first. His hand went to the heart and to his joy found that it was beating. He lifted Tom's head and rested it on his knee. "Tom! Tom!" he called, as he chafed his chum's hands and loosened his suit at the throat. Tom's eyes slowly opened, and, recognizing his friend, a faint smile came to his lips. But he did not speak, and Bart, who was the only other one who could be spared from guarding the prisoners, joined Frank in redoubled efforts to bring Tom back to full consciousness. "He doesn't seem to have any bones broken," said Frank after a hurried examination. "And he isn't bleeding," replied Bart. "But he has a lump on his head as big as an egg." At last Tom's full consciousness returned, and with his chums' assistance he got slowly and painfully to his feet. "Guess they haven't got my number yet, but they came mighty near it," he said, trying to grin. "I'd just run one of the Huns through the arm when I saw another out of the tail of my eye swinging for my head with his rifle. I tried to dodge, but he must have been too quick for me, for that's the last I remember." "Thank heaven it was no worse!" ejaculated Frank fervently. "It would have been a mighty bad thing for us if you had cashed in, old boy," said Bart with feeling. "How did the scrap turn out?" asked Tom. "Though I suppose there's no use in asking, or you wouldn't be here taking care of me." "We trimmed them good and proper," said Frank, from whom a ton's weight had been lifted by finding that his friend had escaped serious injury. "A lovely scrap," added Bart. "I wouldn't have missed it for a farm. We've wiped out five and rounded out the rest. Let's go over and see how many there are."