Spud with his unwilling bearers ran on, glad to be out of the danger zone. A few minutes afterwards, the German patrol, which had followed them, came panting and stumbling towards Muldoon’s little army. Z-r-r-p! crashed a volley. Cries of amazement and shrieks of pain rent the air. Z-r-r-p! rattled another, and still another. The enemy fled in disorder towards their startled friends. Muldoon sent more volleys into the retreating host, and then retired about a hundred yards. Crash went his rifles again. The Germans were thoroughly checked and their whole line surprised. "Back, bhoys, for the love of Saint Patrick," ordered Muldoon, leading his three men at a trot down the long winding road. They quickly pulled up on Spud and his burdened prisoners, and in half an hour were marching in triumph through their own lines. "Two prisoners, sir," said Spud, jumping into Colonel Corkleg’s dug-out. "Oh! How did you get them, Tamson?" "Wi’ a bit o’ breid, sir." "Bread!" "Ay, sir. Ye could catch a regiment wi’ a twa-pun’ loaf." "Well, that’s the limit. Where did you learn that?" "The Gallowgate, sir." "Ah! Tell me how you did it." Spud quickly told of his adventure, and also imparted the useful information he had received. "That’s good, sergeant. Do you think we could capture the redoubt and the guns?" "Ay, sir—easy." "How?" "A night attack, sir." "Sound, very sound, sergeant. I’ll put your captain on to it. Thank you, Tamson." Spud saluted and jumped out. His company gave him a warm welcome on entering their dug-outs; indeed, Captain Coronet called him in for a tot of service rum. After this warm beverage had been devoured, Spud elaborated his own ideas about the capturing of the enemy’s Maxims. The captain listened attentively and then dismissed him to have a rest preparatory to the projected assault. The night affair was arranged by the colonel during the day. Captain Coronet was to make the attack, supported by another company. The whole thing was to be led by the now famous sergeant. It was a daring adventure; but if successful it was worth the risk. Machine guns are annoying at all times. These would be better out of the way. The position, too, was desirable. Its capture would allow the Mixed Division an opportunity to clear the wood of objectionable snipers. At dusk Coronet and his men sallied out. Spud headed the column, and from front to rear all were guided by a great, long rope held by each man so as to ensure direction and avoid straggling. At first they marched, but on nearing the enemy’s line all fell on their knees and commenced to crawl. This was continued for half an hour, when a whispered "Halt!" made them lie low. "It’s owre there, sir," said Spud, pointing in the direction of the redoubt. "Not much to be seen, Tamson," remarked the captain, placing his monocle in his eye. "Listen, sir."