“I hope they haven’t got him. He might have stumbled into a picket, but I can hardly think it of Jennings; he isn’t that careless. Let us hope----” Even while the lieutenant spoke there was a slight stir among the spruces above them, on the up side of the hill, and when they all turned that way, some expecting the enemy and having their guns in hand, the grinning face of the Pennsylvania mountaineer peered at them. “They ain’t no way, Lieutenant. Them Jerries is got the hull ground clear acrosst took up with gun nests an’ some trenches. They’re in there as thick as hair on a yaller dog; there’s one or two mangy spots, but they’re watchin’ them close. Got to stay here, I reckon, a while more an’ then some. Me fer sleepin’ a little now, if you don’t object, Lieutenant.” “Go to it!” Herb said, laughing, as ever softly. “We’re awfully glad to see you; thought you might have had bad luck. Did you hear those shots soon after you left?” “Rather did.” Jennings grinned again. “But he missed me and when they come into the brush to look they most stepped on me. Second time I reckon they thought they heard me again an’ jes’ fired random-like, an’ I sneaked out. There was four Heinies together settin’ still on a log, like buzzards waitin’ fer a ol’ cow to croak, or somethin’.” “The War Cross for you, old scout!” Don said. “And say, boys, if the Heinies down there don’t show any more curiosity about their surroundings than they did yesterday, we’ll likely pull through another day all right.” “Pull through is right,” remarked the corporal. “It is a pull.” “If I was the boss of this outfit,” Gill said, with an apologetic grin at Herbert, “I’d just get up and slip down yonder and take them fellers prisoner and march ’em into our lines. Nerve is what counts; if they saw us coming from up out of the earth, they’d all throw up their hands and holler ‘kamerad’!” “I’m afraid not, Gill; we won’t risk it, anyway,” said Herbert. “The inside of a Hun prison camp wouldn’t look good to any of us and unless we wanted to commit suicide on the spot, they’d get us. Twelve men against a good many thousand makes the odds too great; eh, boys?” The remarks in reply to Herbert’s were characteristic: “Stayin’ here is bad enough, but ketchin’ Hun cooties is worse!” “Me fer layin’ low some more.” “I’d like to see the good little old United States again if I can.” “This place looks good enough to me just now, though it might have hot and cold water, real sheets on the beds and a kitchen.” “If we’ve got to stay here long enough and the Jerries down there wouldn’t object to the noise, we might accommodate you and build a hotel.” “Reminds me of the Connecticut Yankee they tell about who got wrecked on nothing but a sand bar in the ocean and in two years he had a prosperous seaport going, with two factories and a railroad. Who’s a liar?”