Duncan raised the army rifle as though to bring it into position for firing. “If it wasn’t so blamed dark I could get ’em,” he declared. “Anyway, I can make a try.” But Clem stopped him. “Hold on, man! You may hit the wounded man there!” “Blazes! Never thought of it. Can’t risk that. Couldn’t stop ’em, anyhow; not in a million shots, with only their lights to shoot at.” “There they go on again. We’re licked this time,” Clem said, mournfully. “Come on; let’s get back to the lane. I’ll help you make that poor chap comfortable. Then I’ll go down and try to get another ambulance. I’ve got to get back to camp pretty soon. Say, it’s going to be tough to have to admit we couldn’t arrest those spies. It’s what I stayed out for and sent word to the lieutenant that I could do. He’ll be sore, and Martin will rub it into me for a month. Say, those spies have put out their lights now.” Duncan mumbled something about their running on with lights out to avoid being recognized. He hoped they’d run into a shell hole and break their blamed necks. The young down-east woodsman was grievously put out not to avenge himself on the men who damaged his ambulance. Not another word was exchanged between the two youths while they were crossing the open ground to the lane. They reached and turned down the well-worn road a little above the ambulance. “He’s asleep, I guess,” Clem said, glancing at the soldier lying on the cot that Duncan had spread for him. The _ambulancier_ went over and stooped down to look at or speak to the wounded man. Then he straightened up with a jerk and stepped back. Though his nerves were of steel after the many bitter experiences following battles, raids, artillery fire and gas attacks, he must have had a sharp prod at the sight that met him. It is one thing to see men killed, maimed, blown to pieces in fair fighting, but quite another thing to find one foully murdered outside of the area of fighting. “Killed!--stabbed! They’ve killed him! Those--those devils!” His voice was thick with rage. Clem could only weakly repeat part of this--it was too horrible for mere words. Instinctively they both turned to gaze down the lane again toward where the spies had fled. And suddenly, from the bottom of the hill, the two bright lights of an approaching ambulance glared at them ominously. CHAPTER XIX BOURESCHES Staplely and Duncan with their weapons ready, waited, crouching. In their agitation they had not observed other ambulances coming along the road at the foot of the hill and they did not doubt that the spies, seeing no light and not suspecting the return of the _ambulancier_ whose car they had broken and whose passenger they had killed, might be returning perhaps to lie in wait for him. They seemed to be having things all their own way of late so why should they not try to accomplish more?