Recklow was on his feet in an instant and running south along the wire. It might have been a deer crossing to the eastern slope; it might have been the enemy; he could not tell; he could see nothing stirring. And there seemed to be nothing for him to do but to take his chances. "McKay!" he called in a low voice. Then, amid the checkered pools of light and shade among the trees a shadow moved. "McKay! It's Number Seventy. If it's you, call out your number, because I've got you over my sights and I shoot straight!" "Seventy-six and Seventy-seven!" came McKay's cautious voice. "Good heavens, Recklow, why have you come up here?" "Don't touch the wire again," Recklow warned him. "Drop flat both of you, and crawl under! Crawl toward my voice!" As he spoke he came toward them; and they rose from their knees among the shadows, pistols drawn. "There's been some dirty business," said Recklow briefly. "Three enemy spies went over the Swiss wire about an hour after you left Delle. There are half a dozen Boches on the peak by the Crucifix. And that's why I'm here, if you want to know." There was a silence. Recklow looked hard at McKay, then at Evelyn Erith, who was standing quietly beside him. "Can we get through this neck of woods?" asked McKay calmly. "We can hold our own here against a regiment," said Recklow. "No Swiss patrol is likely to cross the summit before daybreak. So if our cowbell jingles again to-night after I have once called halt!--let the Boche have it." To Evelyn he said: "Better step back here behind this ledge." And, when McKay had followed, he told them exactly what had happened. "I'm afraid it's not going to be very easy going for you," he added. With the alarming knowledge that they had to do once more with their uncanny enemies of Isla Water, McKay and Evelyn Erith looked at each other rather grimly. Recklow produced his clay pipe, inspected it, but did not venture to light it. "I wonder," he said carelessly, "what that she-Boche is doing over yonder by the summit path.... Her name is Helsa.... She's not bad looking," he added in a musing voice--"that young she-Boche. ... I wonder what she's up to now? Her people ought to be along pretty soon if they've travelled by the summit path from Delle." They had indeed travelled by the summit path--not ON it, but parallel to it through woods, over rocks, made fearful by what they believed to be the treachery of the girl, Helsa. For this reason they dared not take the trodden way, dreading ambush. Yet they had to cross the peak; they dared not remain in a forest where they believed Recklow was hunting them with many men and their renegade comrade, Helsa, to guide them.