With a cry that was almost a shriek he pointed at the big German in the lead. The recognition was apparently mutual, for the latter’s face went as white as chalk, his step wavered, and even though it was apparent he was making a tremendous effort to maintain his self-possession, his hands shook. “The beast!” the Frenchman shouted, his weak voice breaking into an hysterical sob. “It was he—he—who cut off my fingers. It was he who threw me into that pit to die.” In that tense instant a shot rang out. The big German crumpled and went down in a heap without so much as a sound. If anyone there knew from whence that shot had come, he made no mention of it, and there was no investigation. The others gathered about the German who had gone down, but he had died instantly—shot directly through the heart. John Big Bear, with just a perceptible grunt, turned and walked away. Tom Walton, glancing after him, saw the Indian push something down into his pocket; that was all. The tortured Frenchman had been avenged. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XVIII THE DEATH OF SNOOPER JONES ALTHOUGH what meagre reports there were to be had indicated that the long swing of the left wing of the American army was progressing favorably, the orders for the big push by the men in the pivotal sector did not come that day. The constant roar of the big guns, with occasionally a big German shell dropping near enough to do considerable damage, kept them on the tiptoe of expectancy and ready for any emergency; but aside from the rather routine work that falls to men of an army temporarily at a standstill, and which they were allowed to do in relays, the men got a longer and more beneficial rest than they had had since the drive was inaugurated on September 12th. On the following morning, however, came orders which cast doubt upon the entire success of the project of bottling the Germans up in a pocket of the salient. Had that been accomplished, the artillery would have smashed away until the ambushed enemy either had surrendered or been annihilated. Instead, came orders to forge ahead with all speed, and gain contact at the earliest possible moment. “We’re going to chase them clear to the Rhine this time,” Tom heard one officer say to another, and indeed the preparations that had been made, and the manner in which the orders to move were carried into effect, made that seem possible, even if not the actual intention of the present assault. Indeed, the Americans pressing in from the west, and the French bearing down from the north, with other Americans bringing an even stronger upward pressure from the south, had so thoroughly routed the Hun armies that they were fleeing precipitately, abandoning guns and munitions as they went, but making every effort to so destroy these, as well as all roads, bridges, etc., that the Allies might not make use of any of them.