"Oh, my conversation is always highly instructive," Bob patronizingly assured. "You can learn something from Bobby every time he opens his mouth. He's a walking compendium of knowledge and a spouting fount of useful information." "We'll let _Bobby_ tell it," jeered Jimmy. "I wouldn't be caught dead----" Walking next to Bob, something suddenly cut the narrow space between the two with the peculiar whistling whine which belongs only to a speeding bullet. "Drop!" yelled Jimmy, suiting the action to the word. "Some Boche has it in for us!" CHAPTER V A WILD GOOSE CHASE Like a flash, five uniformed figures flattened themselves to the ground as several more bullets whistled above them. Though they heard no report, a peculiar sound as of an almost silent concussion accompanied the whine of each winging bullet. For a moment or two the Khaki Boys pressed close to the cold earth, too greatly flabbergasted for speech. It was Jimmy who first cautiously raised himself a little from the frozen ground. A bullet promptly sang past his head causing him to quickly duck and resume his former position. "Where are they coming from?" breathed Bob. "On the left. That gateway," muttered Roger. The Khaki Boys had been in the act of passing an apparently deserted house on the outskirts of the village. It was surrounded by a high stone wall, but the gate was missing, leaving a wide aperture. Roger's alert eyes had noted it just as they came abreast of it. On the other side of the road a little above it stood another house, dark like the first. "Then charge it," came impatiently from Jimmy. Up in a flash, the quintet made a bold dash toward the danger spot. Strangely enough not a single bullet more was directed at them by their unknown foe. Reaching the gateway, no one was to be seen. The clear moonlight shone whitely down upon it, bathing the darkly outlined wall with radiant light. "Whoever ambushed us has cut and run along close to the wall and down among those trees and outbuildings," surmised Bob. "Come on, let's after 'em," proposed Jimmy sharply. "We're losing time. We'll never nab 'em at this rate. Hug the wall, though. It's safer." Led by impetuous Jimmy the party traversed on the run a long stretch of bare ground that sloped gradually down to a small orchard at the end of the grounds. Their eyes were sharply trained ahead to catch a first glimpse of their quarry, hidden perhaps behind the trunk of a tree. Against the moon's silver rays the trees stood out sharply, their bare branches affording little shadow in which the fugitive enemy might seek concealment. First impulse toward self-protection under fire had been completely routed by the desire to give chase. The hunters now darted recklessly in and out among the trees, oblivious to the possibility of a fresh attack from a new quarter.