"Looks like a machine-gun nest to me!" called Bowers. But Hal still guided the machine toward the spot. Suddenly a veritable hail of bullets poured upon the tank and rattled harmlessly off the steel sides. Hal stopped the tank. "You're right," he called to Bowers. "It's a nest, all right." For the next ten minutes, as Hal expressed it later, "we just sat there and took it." An anti-tank rifle was brought into play by the Germans. This weapon was a monster indeed, fully seven feet long and forty pounds in weight--not, perhaps, a monster as compared with heavy siege guns and heavy artillery, but a mammoth for an anti-tank gun. But the anti-tank's rifle bullets likewise failed to pierce the living-room of the tank, although they did cut through the running gear in one or two spots that were not vital. Hal and Bowers ducked down so that they would not be struck by slivers should they come through the eye-slits in the tank. "We're in a tight place, sir," called Bowers. "Right," Hal agreed. "We don't want to take too many chances peeking through the eye-holes while those bullets are hitting around us like this. Great Scott! Listen! It sounds like someone was hitting the skin with a sledge hammer at the rate of fifty blows a second." A sliver suddenly spun through a porthole and struck Bowers on the hand. The wound was slight but painful. Bowers wrung his numbed hand in silence. "Hurt much?" asked Hal. "No, sir. I'll be all right in a second." But the hand wasn't all right in a second. It was still too numb to permit of handling the gun. "There isn't any use of our being here unless we can do some good," Hal called. "I'm afraid you can't work that gun any longer, Bowers." "I can drive," was Bowers' reply. So the two changed places, Hal going into the gunners turret. This to Hal was one of the worst moments of the battle, for tankers fit as closely into tanks as snails in their shells. It was with an effort that Hal and Bowers crawled past each other, for there were several painful moments when two bodies occupied the space that was a tight fit for one. But they managed it. Bowers waggled the tank out into the open and headed for the nest of annoying gunners, and Hal will always have respect for these gunners. In spite of their failure against the tank, the Prussians died with their hands on their guns. Others ran away and the tank was checked in its progress, while Hal poured volley after volley at the fleeing foes. Suddenly Hal was arrested by a shout from Bowers. "Hey! What's that?" cried the marine. Looking a trifle to the left, Hal saw four Germans wearing Red Cross uniforms, carrying something on a litter. "That's a mighty funny-looking stretcher," said Bowers. "Have a shot at it." "Not a chance," replied Hal. "They're Red Cross workers." "That's a funny-looking litter," said Bowers, unconvinced. "Take my advice and shoot."