Max kept the German farmer close by his side. The man knew the country well, and Max gave him to understand that his comrades would be very glad indeed of an excuse to strafe him. The man certainly had no reason to disbelieve him. The wild, fierce looks of the men, the assured way in which they marched through an enemy's country, and the pitched battle, ending in the burning of a German post, just fought were enough to convince him that he had to deal with men who were nothing if not determined. At any rate, Max had no trouble with him, and found him a ready and reliable guide all through the night. For nearly two hours the band moved obliquely inland. Then Max turned and aimed once more at the frontier at a point at least ten miles away from the place where the previous attempt had been made. The German patrols were fewer here, and with only one mishap they reached the frontier. This mishap took place while the party was crossing a high road. Scouts had reported all clear, and all had crossed except the men at the rear, who were helping the wounded along. These were in the middle of the road, when a motorcar, moving at high speed, turned a corner a short distance away and ran rapidly down upon them. The powerful headlights of the motor of course revealed the little group of men in the roadway. Brakes were applied, and the machine came to a standstill a yard or two away. "Who are you? What do you here?" came in the deep peremptory tones of a man who was evidently a German officer. For the moment the party in the road, half-blinded by the powerful lights, stopped stupidly where they were. None of them understood what was said, and none made a move either to fly or to resist capture. Max, the instant he saw the headlights approaching, ran back to the roadway and was just in time to hear the officer's demand. It was too late for flight--too late for anything but attack--and, calling to the men nearest him, he sprang towards the car. Two revolvers flashed in the darkness. One of the bullets cut through the side of his jacket and grazed his side. The other missed altogether. In another moment he was alongside the car and using the rifle and bayonet he carried with hearty goodwill. The car contained four German officers and a soldier chauffeur. For a fraction of a second Max attacked them single-handed. Then other men sprang to his assistance, and from both sides of the car the Germans were assaulted with an energy they doubtless had never experienced before. It was quickly over. All the men were bayoneted, and left for dead, and, without waiting to do more than dash out the headlights and overturn the car in a ditch, Max again led the band forward to the frontier.