Herbert had a clear aim at about sixty yards distance through an open space in the foliage; he could see no more than the shoulders of any of the Germans. He emptied his rifle with three shots, slipped in another clip, fired five of these cartridges, replaced the clip and turned to see what else menaced. That gun nest was no longer in action; when a corporal and the two men remaining in his squad reached the spot there was one wounded man and one fellow untouched and eager to surrender out of the seven; the others were dead. But there must have been other Americans shooting at them; Herbert always liked to think that, anyway. And now he frowned when one of the men who had remained with him remarked: “By the Kaiser’s whiskers, Lieutenant, that was great work! Nobody in the army, not even General Pershing, could beat it! Say, if we had all like you in this reg’lar fellers’ army, it would take only this platoon to open the way to Berlin.” Herbert ducked; so did his companion. Not fifty feet in front of them three Huns came quickly though clumsily in their big shoes, over the mossy rocks, dragging a machine gun. They meant to set it up behind a fallen tree trunk and in the shelter of a spruce; from their position they had not discerned the Americans near by. The young lieutenant, slowly and without stirring a twig, raised his rifle. This indeed seemed like murder, but----. There was the crack of several guns just to the left and the three Huns sank to the earth as one man. It was this sort of work that made the German respect and fear his American foe. “Come on; more work ahead!” Herbert shouted and as he and his men made their way through thickets, over rocks, roots and fallen trees they found plenty to do. A little hillock, almost perpendicular, rose in front of them; there was the rapid firing of a gun just over the top of it, though the approach of the boys in khaki beneath wide-spreading branches and behind dense bushes could not have been observed. “Some risk, but if we go up and over quickly, then----” Herbert began, starting to clamber up the rocks. It was slippery going, a difficult task at best, and he found it necessary, to avoid being seen, to go down on hands and knees. One foot slipped back and the other, too, was slipping when he felt a hand beneath his shoe holding him. He had but to stretch out and upward to bring his head over the rocks above, when a Hun saw him. The fellow could not have possessed a loaded pistol, or in his hurry he forgot it. With a guttural roar of discovery he seized a big stone in both hands and raised it. But Herbert had climbed up with an automatic only in his hand, leaving his rifle below. Now the weapon barked its protest and the rock was not sent crushingly down upon him. The young officer covered the other four men standing in a bunch by a machine gun, their eyes, wide with surprise, glancing from Herbert to their fallen comrade. Then their arms went up.