A second shell whined through the air and burst over their heads. A third burst a few yards in front of them. "They have us bracketed now," said McCready. "We'd better slide back a piece before they start rapid fire." Dragging their prisoner with them, the three men made their way to the reverse side of the knoll. A short search revealed an overhanging ledge under which they crouched in comparative safety from anything but a direct hit above them. "We're all right here except for the fact that they may rush us under cover of the fire," said the doctor. "One man will have to keep watch all the time and it will be a dangerous detail. I'll take the first hitch." "You will not!" exclaimed Carnes emphatically. "I have done nothing so far and I am the least important member of the party. I'll do the watching." "Let's draw straws," suggested McCready. "I'm willing to do that, but if it's a matter of volunteering, I refuse to yield to the civilian branches of the government. The Navy has traditions to uphold, you know." "McCready's right," replied the doctor. "Get straws, Lieutenant, and we'll draw." McCready picked up three bits of grass and held them out. "The shortest goes on watch," he said. Carnes and the doctor drew, McCready exhibited the remaining bit of grass. It was the shortest of the three. He waited until the next shell burst above them and then stepped out from the shelter. "I'll relieve you in fifteen minutes," said Carnes as he left. "Right." * * * * * When the lieutenant had left, Dr. Bird removed the gag from Feodrovna's mouth and tried to argue with her, but the Russian girl only glared her hatred and refused to talk other than to abuse him. With a sigh, the doctor gave over his efforts and talked to Carnes. The time passed slowly with a constant rain of shells on the knoll. "It's time for my relief," said Carnes at length. As he spoke the hail of shells on the knoll ceased. "What the dickens?" cried the doctor. He and Carnes jumped from their shelter and ran over the knoll. On the plain a few hundred yards from them, a straggling line of Russians were advancing with fixed bayonets. McCready was nowhere in sight. "Where the devil is McCready?" cried the doctor. "He must have been killed. Hello, one of the guns is gone, too. There's only a belt and a half of ammunition left. I'll try to break that attack up." He advanced to the gun and trained it carefully. When he pressed the trigger a dull click came from the gun.