They continued their journey for perhaps an hour without hearing a sound of the Germans, and then, suddenly, they were made aware of the presence of the enemy.
Chester’s cap seemed suddenly to jump from his head. Both lads heard the hum of a bullet and the crack of a rifle. Immediately they both dropped to the ground.
They had not detected from which direction the bullet had come, and for that reason were at a great disadvantage. Crouched close to the ground they waited, ears strained for a sound by which they could locate the man who had fired.
But a sound came not. Nothing but silence. Crouched close to the ground as they were, the silence soon became stifling. Hal endured the suspense as long as he could, and then whispered to Chester:
“We can’t stay here. I’ll wriggle my way to that tree,” pointing, “and you creep behind that one,” pointing again, this time to a tree perhaps a hundred yards distant from the first.
“All right,” Chester whispered back.
Hal had hardly taken his position behind the tree he had selected for his own cover when a second sharp crack of a rifle broke the stillness of the night, and there was a flash of fire hardly fifty feet from him.
In the darkness Hal made out the form of a man, his gun pointed toward Chester, who at that moment succeeded in wriggling behind a tree.
“The dog!” said Hal angrily to himself. “I’ll fix him.”