The bullet had penetrated some little distance into the earth. Kenneth probed the hole with his bayonet, and it seemed pretty certain that the shot had been fired from the left rear, and, judging by the angle of incidence, from a considerable distance, probably not less than a mile. Captain Adams scanned the ground in that direction through his field glasses. About a mile to the left rear stood a small copse. Slanting a rifle towards it, and comparing the angle with that of the hole made by the bullet, the captain decided that the copse was too far to the right, and swept his glasses towards the left. The only other likely spot was the ruins of a farm, but that seemed too far to the left. Between farm and copse ran a low railway embankment, which appeared almost exactly to meet the conditions. "The sniper is there or thereabouts," said the captain. "Are you game to do a little scouting to-night, Amory?" "Anything you like, sir," Kenneth replied. "Well, creep out to-night and see if you can make anything of it. It would be safer to go alone, perhaps, but on the other hand a little support may be useful, so you had better take another man--Murgatroyd, say: he’s an active man, and not too tall. You must have your wits about you." Ginger was delighted at the chance of doing something. The other men envied him, and Harry looked a trifle sulky. "Cheer up, old man," said Kenneth. "Your turn will come some day." At dusk Kenneth and Ginger, the former carrying a revolver supplied by the captain, the latter armed only with his bayonet, made their way through the communication trenches to the second line of entrenchments and thence to the road leading to the village. They waited until complete darkness had fallen before stepping openly on to the road. The Germans had the range of it, and knowing that it was used after dark by British troops moving to and from the trenches, they might start shelling at any moment. "We’ll leave the road as soon as possible," said Kenneth, as they set off, "and bear away to the left." "The right, you mean," said Ginger. "No, the left, and work our way round. We’ll take a leaf out of the Germans’ book; they prefer flank attacks to front. We’ve plenty of time." It was very dark. They struck off to the left across fields, and picked their way as well as they could, stumbling now and then into holes and over broken relics of former engagements. They could only guess distance. Kenneth took the time by his luminous watch, and allowing for the detour, when they had walked for twenty minutes he bore to the right, crossed the deserted road, and peered through the darkness for the ruined farm and the railway embankment. No trains had run beyond the village for a considerable time, and it was known that the permanent way had been cut up by German shells. Moving purely by guesswork they failed to find the farm, but after a time came suddenly upon the embankment, and halted. "Right or left?" whispered Kenneth.