However, there was no other way open. Caution, already a sort of second nature to them, was sharpened by the knowledge that their presence also was known, and by the realization, too, that this German—for there no longer was any doubt in their minds as to that—should not elude them a second time, possessing as he did information which must not fall into the hands of the Boche commanders. As it turned out later, however, the man in hiding had good reason for electing to take his chances on escape, rather than lay there until daylight, when capture would be inevitable if he was then still alive. While the three lads were yet some distance from the spot, proceeding in a spread-eagle movement, Harper in the centre, the fellow made a wild jump from the hole. Three shots rang out almost simultaneously. With a groan the man crumpled up on the edge of what had been his hiding place. The lads waited for a moment, to make sure it was not a ruse, then swiftly ran upon him, all three covering him with their pistols. Considering the darkness and the quickness of the shots their marksmanship had been highly creditable. One bullet had hit the German in the right hip, another in the calf of the left leg, while the third had grazed his neck. He was painfully, although not critically wounded; but he was entirely out of the fighting for the time being. Tom stripped him of his automatic and made sure he had no other weapons, but even wounded as the fellow was he tried to put up a resistance when Ollie opened his blouse and abruptly drew forth a packet of papers. “That means your finish, Fritz,” Harper ejaculated, but the wounded man only grunted viciously. “Search him carefully and see what else he has collected in the way of valuable souvenirs for his superiors,” Tom instructed; and Ollie continued to investigate every possible hiding place in or under the German lieutenant’s clothing. Evidently he had canvassed a large stretch of ground, for he was a veritable walking library of secret orders, maps and photographs taken from American officers. While Ollie was doing this, and Harper was discouraging any resistance by a threatening play of his automatic, Tom walked around to take a look into the shell hole. It had just occurred to him that the captured German might not have been working alone. In the darkness Tom took a false step. Before he could regain his balance he went feet first into the hole and disappeared completely from sight. When he landed it was with a grunt that told that the breath had been pretty well jarred out of his body, and the Hun, even in the pain of his wounds, laughed outright. Ollie leaned over the hole and looked in. He expected to see Tom’s face almost on a level with his. Instead, he could but dimly discern him, several feet below. “Holy smoke!” he ejaculated, involuntarily. And then, “Oh, Tom, are you hurt?”