“We’re going to find out mighty sudden. Look alive, Gill! There may be something doing in about half a minute. Our dear friends here are getting on to them.” One of the smaller Huns had climbed on the big fellow’s shoulders in order to see over the bushes; suddenly he slid to the ground and all four crouched, one of them gazing anxiously at the Americans, especially at Gill. Nearer came the noise of advancing men, forcing their way slowly through the thicket. Then the sound veered off to the right and was surely passing. “Huh! Them’s Yanks,” Gill observed quite calmly. “I can tell by the way they hit the ground with their feet. Heinies walk like a ol’ raccoon full o’ huckleberries. Them fellers’s goin’ past, eh? Not if I got any holler left!” And yell he did, once again, with no uncertain voice; upon which the four Huns leaped to their feet, picked up the guns of the Americans also and ran past the prisoners, giving Gill another savage kick or two as they went. “I’ll get you fer them kicks an’ things, if I got to hunt you from here to Hail Columbia!” the mountaineer shouted after them. And then, bursting through the bushes into the clearing by the old pine came a most welcome half dozen khaki-clad men. Hardly stopping to take in the situation, they at once knelt to unbind the late captives, the corporal of the squad, however, making quick use of his very ready tongue: “Reef the mainsail and throw the jib overboard! Oh, you Whitcomb, alive and kickin’ and ain’t we overjoyed? Won’t the captain cut a caper? Where have you been? And how did you get lost? How long have you been in this fix? And if there ain’t old Gill! Lieutenant, where’s the rest of your bunch?” “Thanks, thanks for this timely release, Peters, my man! Three of my men are out yonder with a lot of Hun prisoners; the rest are pretty much all dead. This is my friend Lieutenant Richards, Corporal Peters. Say, man, you came just in time.” Further question, reply and comment were interrupted by Gill: “Get me free, quick! And I want your gun, buddy!” This to one of the squad. “Make him lend it to me, Corp.--Lieutenant. I got to go after them polecats that beat me up and just quit here. I got to get ’em! They got our guns, too.” The man’s eagerness was catching; his words thrilled both Herbert and Don, for they had witnessed some of his treatment at the hands of the captors and they felt now instinctively that he would make good. Telling Corporal Peters that he would be entirely responsible, Herbert insisted that Gill be given the weapon. In spite of his bruises and aching bones, the mountaineer, gun in hand, dived into the thicket like a panther, and those in the clearing, uttering hardly a word, stood waiting and listening. A shot sounded not a hundred yards away. Two more followed in quick succession; then was heard only the more distant shooting in the valley and beyond the ridge, the firing in the continuous battle.