Still it was something to be under a roof. Human beings once had been there, and the fact seemed to bring him in contact with his kind. And even this rough shelter was better than being compelled to sleep in the woods. If he had only had something to still the terrible gnawing at his stomach he would have been content--at least as far as he could be contented while a fugitive, with his life and liberty in constant danger. After he had rested a while he went outside, with the double purpose of watching for enemies and trying to find something to eat. He fashioned a club from a stout branch and made several attempts to get a squirrel or a bird by hurling it at them. But the weapon was too clumsy and they were too quick, and this forlorn hope came to nothing. So that when night at last dropped down upon him he was more hungry than ever and had to go to sleep supperless. The next morning he was more fortunate, for he came upon a stream that abounded in fish. He improvised a hook and line and landed several fair-sized ones. He had some matches in an oilskin pouch, and he made a little fire in a deep depression, so as to hide the smoke, and roasted fish over it. He had no salt, but never had a meal tasted more delicious in his life. Now a burden was lifted from his mind. At least he would not starve. Fish, no doubt, would grow wearisome as a diet if it were varied with nothing else. But at least it would sustain life and give him strength for the tasks that lay before him. He listened for the booming of the guns and tried to figure out from the sound just where the contending armies were facing each other. Sometimes they grew louder and fiercer, and at other times seemed to recede, as the tide of battle ebbed and flowed. But there was rarely any lull in the ominous thunder, and Tom knew that the fiercest kind of fighting was going on. He thought of Frank and Bart and Billy, who he felt sure were in the very thick of it, and he grew desperate at the thought that he was not at their side, facing the same dangers, and, as he hoped, sharing in the same victories. Gradually he worked his way down the mountain, taking the utmost care to avoid detection, until he felt sure from the increasing din that he was not far from one or the other of the hostile armies. But it was of the utmost importance to him to know whether he was within the German or the American lines.