“Here they come and on the run, some of them!” announced the corporal, with his eye to the peep-hole. Every man gripped his gun, feeling the moment had arrived for him to do or die. Still a little longer it was to be postponed. Intent upon reaching the patch of bushes on the hilltop where the airman had signaled that the American was seen, the half dozen Boches hastened on, two going directly past the rock basin and never once turning to look it over. Several of the Yanks, though lying prone, could see for a moment the helmets of these searchers who believed they were on the track of a lone spy, or a lost picket. They disappeared up the hill and Farnham, who had been responsible for this scare, but had received not one word of censure from his commanding officers, ejaculated fervently: “Thank the good Lord they didn’t see us!” But the relief was short-lived. There being no sign of the spy on the ridge top, the searchers spread out and two of them came back down the hill and were again about to pass on. And then the possibility of a good hiding place beneath the dark spruces may have occurred to one of them, though it can never be known what he thought. With a guttural exclamation he turned and saw far more than he had expected, but he didn’t exist long enough to make even a mental note thereof. As he tumbled in a heap the other Hun started to run and he, too, joined his late companion in the unknown. With admirable coolness the Americans had met the situation and only one shot for each of these foemen had been used; the ammunition must not be wasted. Farnham’s gun was warm and he was minus two cartridges. “Get out there and drag those poor chaps under cover, two of you, Kelly and Wilson!” Herbert ordered. “Make short work of it!” But they could not make that gruesome task short enough. Attracted by the shots, the four remaining searchers had turned that way and one began shooting at Kelly. Lieutenant Whitcomb leveled his rifle at the tree where only the head and arms of the Hun showed, at a distance of a hundred and fifty yards; then no more shots came from behind that tree. Getting an inkling of the situation, though unable to estimate the number of men among the rocks, the other Huns retreated and carried the news to their commander. In twenty minutes thereafter the surrounded squad was facing all that they had known must come to them. CHAPTER XIV GRIT