As Tom and Ollie followed as cautiously as they could, they realized that the third man was their old friend, “Buck” Granger. “A little action at last,” he grumbled, good-naturedly, as he wiped from his eye a chunk of dirt that had been thrown up by a bullet which plowed into the ground less than a foot ahead of him. “This is the real stuff.” The sergeant warned them to be careful not to raise their voices. They were making their way through a patch of tall weeds and grass, and the object was to move as rapidly as possible, and yet with every caution, so that they might overtake the nest without themselves being discovered. Further to the left of them some of their own men already had risen again and were rushing toward the wood. This particular gun was trained upon them, and Tom gritted his teeth in silent resolution of revenge as he saw it send forth its hail of bullets, mowing down three Americans, painfully if not mortally wounded. They were within fifteen yards of the spot when the tallest of the four Germans visible discovered them approaching. He muttered some gutteral sound of warning to his companions, but it was his last word, for the sergeant picked him off with a clean shot through the heart. [Illustration: Ollie Hurled a Grenade Directly Into the Group That Remained.] Hardly had the sergeant’s rifle spoken when Ollie, with the strength and aim he had gained on many a long throw straight from second base to the home plate in many a hard-fought baseball game, hurled a grenade directly into the group that remained. As the smoke cleared, Tom was at the gun, swung it about and turned it full upon a clump of bushes from which another batch of Boches were attempting to stop or stem the irresistible tide of American oncomers. They attempted to surrender, but as through a trumpet Tom heard the shouted order of a major, “On, on! No quarter!” And with what had been their own weapon a few moments before, another half dozen of the enemy went to their Judgment. Far ahead of them German guns were hurling shells at the point where the fight was becoming thickest, but for the time their range was sufficiently short to be inflicting more damage upon their own troops than upon the Americans. The battle was now becoming hotter with each moment, for while the first wave of shock troops was going forward with unconquerable valor, the Germans who were on the very rear of a vast retreating host were stubbornly contesting each foot of the way, marveling at the bravery of their opponents, not realizing that the avalanche of men throwing themselves upon them were fighting, not because they had been ordered or compelled to, but because they had before them every instant of the time the ideal of liberty and freedom which brought the United States into the conflict.