What did the words mean? What but that he was to act as though the greatest contest of his life was before him--aye, one with his very life for the prize! The zest for life, the deep-rooted objection to give up his task half done, the old sporting instinct to battle to the very finish, all combined to brace Max's nerve to a point at which nothing was impossible. Ready?--aye, he was ready and more than ready--all he waited for was the signal he knew was close at hand. Suddenly something dark flew through the air. Ere it touched the ground another and another followed. Three tremendous explosions took place at the very feet of the men of his escort in front of him. The officer and four of the men fell to the ground, and escort and crowd surged back and away in all directions. "_Go!_" Like a shot from a gun, Max dived into the crowd on his right. Not a man of his escort put out a hand to stop him. The surprise was complete, and in an instant Max was in the midst of the crowd of men already on the move, flying in terror from the scene of the fearful explosions which had killed five of the soldiers and injured others as well as some of the nearest of the crowd. Four more explosions followed hard on his heels, just behind him, and he guessed they had occurred in the middle of the rearmost of his escort. The crowd scattered in all directions. Max followed those who fled towards the open country, and in a few minutes he was on the outskirts of the town. Hardly turning to right or left, he sped on at top speed. It was his own safety he had now to look to, his own race to win, and he put out all the energy he possessed. Out of the town and up the heights into the open country he ran, and it was not until he was practically beyond pursuit that he slackened and looked about him. Only one solitary figure was in sight, a quarter of a mile behind, and he was clearly not a soldier. In fact, as Max slowed down and looked back, the man waved a hand. It was Dale, and with a feeling of tremendous joy and gratitude Max dashed back to meet him. "By George, Max--you are no end of a sprinter!" Dale gasped as they met. "I had no idea--you were such a hot man on the track." "Ah! Wait until you are under sentence of death and see what speed you can work up to. I am glad--I can't tell you how glad--to get away from there. And you are a brick, Dale, a real brick." "Nonsense, old man, the boot is on the other leg altogether. I am still fathoms deep in your debt." "Come out of the road into the wood here where we shall be safer. What about Dubec--he was in it, of course?" "Yes; and _he_ has been a brick, if you like. It was he that got us the hand-grenades--Schenk has just started making them--and he was one of those who pitched them into the middle of the Germans. Ha! Ha! Schenk will know that they were his own grenades when he hears about it. I guess it will not improve his temper." "Is Dubec following?"