“Something is under or behind it,” he answered at last, in a voice which Carl could scarcely hear. “Perhaps the log is hollow.” “Chust vot I vos dinkin’,” replied the regular. “Und I vos dink der vos von Chink under dot log, hey?” “I shouldn’t be much surprised. Have you a bit of rope handy?” “Rope?” “Yes; a piece about thirty feet long?” “Yes, dare vos a rope up der stream, vere da stharted to but town dot pondoon pridge.” “I will get it, and we’ll soon see if that is only a log or not.” Running to where the engineering corps had been at work, the young lieutenant quickly procured the rope Carl had described, and also a bit of an iron bar with a ring at one end. Through the ring Gilbert shoved an end of the rope, and made it fast. “Here goes,” he said, as he rejoined Carl. “If that is nothing but a log, it will come in easily enough.” Holding fast to one end of the rope, he let fly with the other, that containing the bit of iron. His aim was true; and with a splash the iron landed in the water on the outer side of the log. Then Gilbert began to pull in. No sooner was this movement commenced than an extraordinary thing occurred. The log gave a sudden wobble, and seemed about to turn over, when up came a yellow hand and arm, and hauled it back. Although he was not positive, Gilbert imagined that he also saw the top of a yellow man’s head. “He’s there, sure enough,” said the young lieutenant. “Shall I schoot at him?” asked Carl, raising his rifle. “Not yet.” Gilbert raised his voice. “Come in here!” he called out. To this there was no reply, and he gave a sudden yank on the rope. Over came the log, in spite of the efforts of the yellow man under it. Then came a splash, and the two on shore saw a Chinaman swimming away for his very life. “Stop, or we’ll fire at you!” cried Gilbert. But the Celestial would not stop; and, raising his pistol, the young lieutenant blazed away. At the same instant Carl’s gun spoke up; and both reports were followed by a scream of pain, for the shots had entered the fellow’s shoulder. “I think he would rather die than be captured,” said Gilbert. “But we must take him if we can. He may prove to be an important capture. No ordinary Chinaman or Chinese soldier would be swimming around here this time of night.” “Of I vos a first-class schwimmer, I vos chump in for him,” replied the German. “Put he might grab me und drown me, hey?” By this time the corporal of the guard was hurrying to the spot, wanting to know what the two shots meant. He was a tall, powerful fellow from South Dakota, and was perfectly willing to leap into the stream and bring in the “pig-tail” by his hair, as he expressed it, although he ‘allowed as how it would be dead easy to plug him fer keeps.’ “I don’t wish him killed,” answered Gilbert. “Bring him in if you can, but beware that he doesn’t knife you.”