He tried to squirm out of the way silently, but haste was too urgent for extreme caution and the sound of the lad’s body gliding over the ground carried to the ears of the enemy. "What’s that?" demanded one of them, and all halted. "What’s what, Hans?" asked a second voice. "I heard something moving there," said the man called Hans. "And what of it?" demanded the second voice. "Probably a rat." "Made too much noise for a rat," was the response. "Sounded more like a man." "Ha!" said another voice. "You talk as if you feared enemies right in the heart of our own camp, Hans." "Can’t trust these Americans," was the reply. "They’re not afraid of anything. One of them is as likely to be here as any place else." "Some truth in that, Hans," said another voice. "We’ll have a look." The Germans spread out fanwise and moved forward again. This was what Hal had been afraid of, and he knew now that concealment was no longer possible. "I’ll have to make a dash for it," he told himself grimly. Still stooping, he produced his pair of automatics and paused, ready for action as soon as he should be discovered. And as he had feared, discovery was not long coming. "Hello! What’s that?" said a German voice. "What’s wh—" began a second voice. Hal waited to hear no more. He knew he had been discovered, and he decided to act before the Germans completely recovered from their surprise. Springing to his feet, the lad dashed forward with a cry. "Out of my way!" he shouted in German. For a moment it seemed that the Germans would obey this command, so startled were they by its suddenness and Hal’s appearance from out of the ground, apparently. But they recovered their wits in a moment and closed in on the lad with guttural cries of anger. Hal raised both revolvers. "Crack! Crack!" Two Germans reeled back and the others gave ground. Before they had time to recover from this unexpected attack, Hal was among them. Twice more his revolvers spoke. The targets were so close that a miss was impossible and two more Germans crumpled up on the ground. The remaining two skipped promptly out of harm’s way. Hal leaped for the trenches, revolvers still in hand. Once beyond the enemy’s lines he felt he would be comparatively safe. But the sounds of the revolver shots had aroused the camp. Men streamed forth from all directions. Hal found his progress barred by a dozen men who seemed to appear from out of the ground. The lad raised his revolvers again and emptied them into his foes, then sprang in among them, his revolvers clubbed. With both hands he laid about him lustily, the while endeavoring to push through the enemy and reach the trench beyond. But the weight of numbers was too great and directly Hal went to the ground under a blow from a rifle butt.