There was little trouble in retracing his steps and creeping under the spruces. Don found the squad just as he had left it, except that another man was missing. Gerhardt had gone a little out of his head; had become quarrelsome and abusive, mumbling that he was hungry, that there were apples and pears down in the woods and that, Germans or no Germans, he was going after them. Before the others of the squad could lay hold to stop him he had leaped over the stone barrier and actually untouched by a veritable hail of bullets had gone off on a wabbling run. And that was the last any of them had ever seen of Gerhardt; his fate was never known. Probably he got into the German lines, was killed because dangerously insane and his unmarked grave would tell no tales. Herbert, still on watch and looking terribly pale and haggard, had not known of the expedition of Don and Gill. When young Judson crawled out and insisted on taking the lieutenant’s place on watch and Herbert had almost reluctantly crept back to the shelter, he remarked that the Hun shells had ceased being fired. Then Don informed him of what Gill had done. “That has saved our lives, Don! They were getting our exact range to a T. We never could have survived that shell fire. And Gill is still out there?” “If he gets back, Herb, that fellow will deserve all the honors that may be put upon him. He’s coming back in twenty minutes.” “Listen! Was that a bugle, men?” “It might have been; off a long way.” “If it was, it was Yank.” “The shooting is nearer all the time.” “Slow, but mebbe sure, Lieutenant.” “I am sure it is sure. They’ll get here, Farnham.” “And find us sitting up and waiting for a square meal.” CHAPTER XX GILL PERFORMS THE young Pennsylvania mountaineer, with his eyes, followed Don until the boy disappeared among the dense bushes; then Gill turned again to his grim duty--that of keeping the long gun out of action. The two Huns who had got away evidently had recognized that to attempt to work the piece in its present position, with enemy marksmen concealed where they could pick off the gunners, was a much too risky business. Gill knew that these conditions would be reported at once to the nearest officer and that very soon men would be sent to hunt the mountaineer out and others to work the gun again. Well, let them come; he would endeavor to give as good as they sent, or better, even if he were only one against many. He had about thirty cartridges left; they ought to be enough for a couple of dozen Heinies, if they didn’t crowd him too fast. And then he had his automatic; he had hardly needed so far to fire a shot from it, but he knew how to use it. Also he had his bayonet as a last resort.