“They’re at it right ahead. I guess the Heinies are all through this wood and what one bunch of our men doesn’t find, another will.” Then the boy noted that his _vis-à-vis_ was short, heavy-set, with features decidedly Italian, though with gray eyes, and in one of his eyes there was undoubtedly a cast. A small black mustache with a tendency to an upward curl at the outer ends completed Don’s recognition from the description the treacherous driver had given him. And yet he could not be sure this was the man. In what way could the boy bring about a positive identification? A bunch of men came pushing through the woods, in front several German prisoners with arms held up from outward elbows, behind them two khaki-clad privates, with rifles ready, conducting the prisoners to the rear. It was a most interesting sight and Don was all attention; when he turned again the liaison sergeant was gone. The boy hastened forward, the sound of shooting was on all sides of him now, even almost behind him, though a good way off. He must be very close to where the most advanced American line was contesting with the Huns for the well defended forest. The way seemed a little more open to the left; Don went that way. A long, level stretch more devoid of branches permitted him to see ahead and fifty yards away the liaison sergeant and an officer were talking. The short fellow was looking all about him; at the same time his right hand came slowly behind him and under his coat. Then he turned his head and saw Don. Instantly the man brought the hand out again, pointed as though asking directions and disappeared among the trees. Don, his automatic in hand, was running forward and in an instant he had come face to face with Lieutenant Herbert Whitcomb. CHAPTER VIII MUCH TO DO AND MANY TO DO IT “SAY, who is that fellow?” Don asked quickly. “Don’t know; something funny about him. Don, I’m tickled to see you, old top! Where’d you come from?” “Headquarters. With the information force now, posing as messenger, liaison, anything else but----. Detective work, you know. I’m glad to see you, Herb. How’s the fight going?” “Right ahead; all the time ahead!” declared Lieutenant Whitcomb. “The Heinies are putting up a good scrap, though. This is only the first round. Say, I wish we could chin awhile, but----” “I know. And now you----?” “Going to find some stretcher bearers to get a man of mine out.” “I’ll do it; where’s the man. But first I must tell you to keep an eye open for that liaison sergeant; I believe he’s bad medicine. He may have been laying for you.” “I know he was lying to me; said there were orders to withdraw. I ought to have held him. Come with me now; then I must get back to my men.” Herbert quickly led Don to where Merritt lay; then clasping Don’s hand and saying that they’d meet again, shortly perhaps, went on a run in the direction of the fighting.