Bearing the explosive the subaltern and the two men raced to the bridge. Waist deep in water Ginger Anderson placed the charge in a space between the baulks of timber forming one of the principal piers, applied and lit the fuse. The three started to run back to the shelter of the Tank when the sharp crack of a rifle rang out and Corporal Anderson pitched headlong on his face and rolled over on his back. "'Ard lines," he gasped. "Properly plugged, an' no chance of gettin' back to Blighty. 'Op it, sir, an' don't worry arter me." Ralph knelt by the side of his wounded corporal and one-time fellow-private. The other man also stopped and threw himself upon the ground. The time-limit of the fuse was nearly up. "Where are you hit?" asked Setley. "Left leg, sir," replied Ginger Anderson. "No more bloomin' football for me, worse luck. It's like this, sir----" A deafening crash denoted the fact that the charge had exploded. When the dust cleared away the greater portion of the bridge was no longer in existence. That part of the business had been successfully accomplished. "Put your hands round my neck and hang on," ordered Setley. "I'm going to carry you in." With the assistance of the private Anderson was hoisted on the subaltern's back and the last stage of the return journey began, but before Ralph had taken a dozen steps something like a hot-iron seared his shoulder. In spite of the weight of his burden he turned round twice and then collapsed, losing consciousness to the rattle of one of the Tank's machine-guns. At the report of the rifle-shot that had brought Ginger Anderson down Sergeant Alderhame, keenly on the alert, kept a sharp look-out for the sniper's position. When the second report rang out the sergeant let rip with the machine-gun, with the result that he had the satisfaction of seeing a Hun scurrying for more efficient cover and being brought down as he ran. A rescue party quickly brought the wounded officer and corporal back to the Tank. "Bringin' 'em in, sergeant?" asked one of the men. "We're all best outside, I'm thinking. They're bringing up the guns." "By Jove, so they are!" exclaimed Alderhame. "Yes, outside every man jack of you. We'll be having fifteen-pounder shells this way in half a jiffey." The operation of abandoning the landship was proceeded with. Sergeant Alderhame was the last man to leave, having previously lit a fuse that would lead to the complete destruction of the Tank. She had played her part nobly, and her reward was destruction at the hands of her crew. Presently Ralph opened his eyes, to find himself being carried by four of his men. Others were bearing the wounded corporal, while more were carrying off one of the maxims. At the same moment the first of the German shells burst a hundred yards to the rear and within a few feet of the already doomed landship. "Where are you making for, sergeant?" asked Ralph. "For that farmhouse, sir," replied Alderhame.