"We'll make faster time if we give ourselves a minute's rest," he panted. "When we start in again we'll have our second wind. They haven't got out of that mix-up yet. Besides, they'll come on more cautiously now. They won't know how many grenades we have left." "I haven't any," gasped Tom. Billy was too far gone to speak, but he drew his last grenade from his sack. Bart and Frank also were down to their last one, for the work on the previous day had almost used up the stock with which they had started out. They had a chance for one last throw, and then if it came to a hand to hand fight they had nothing to rely on but their knives. They rested for a minute or two, and then again upon the wind came the sound of hurrying hoofs. Instinctively the boys reached out and grasped one another's hands. There was no need for words. They knew what it meant. To some of them this might prove the last lap of the last race they would ever run. On came their pursuers, and the boys, summoning up every ounce of strength they possessed, set out at the pace of hunted deer. Not two minutes had elapsed before their feet struck the boards of a bridge. Below they saw the gleam of the moon in the dark water that ran beneath. They took heart at the sight and put on a new burst of speed. Who knew but what the American troops were camped on the further side? Twenty feet further they stopped abruptly. The bridge was broken. The boards had been torn up, though the shattered timbers of the sides projected a few feet further over the current. But fully a hundred feet of black water stretched between them and the farther shore. They stopped, panting and perplexed. And just at that moment they heard the hoofs of horses on the wood of the bridge. They were trapped. To turn back was certain captivity or death. To plunge into that black current might also mean death. Their choice was made on the instant. "Over we go, boys!" shouted Frank, throwing off his coat. "But we mustn't waste those last grenades. Let them have them." They turned and threw, and without waiting to see the result dived headforemost into the stream. The roar of the explosion was in their ears as they struck the water. They were all good swimmers, and when they came to the surface they found themselves within a few feet of each other. "To the other bank, fellows!" exclaimed Frank, as he shook the water from his eyes. "And keep as low in the water as you can. They'll send a volley after us." They struck out lustily for the farther shore while, as Frank had predicted, bullets zipped around them. But in the darkness their foes could take no aim and they reached the shore unscathed. The bank was steep, with long reeds growing down to the water's edge. The fugitives grasped these and rested before they attempted to climb the bank. "I'm all in," gasped Tom. Frank reached out a supporting hand. "I guess we all are," he replied. "It's lucky this river isn't wider. But we're safe now."