With a swift look he saw that Hal had almost reached the Dutch border, which he perceived was guarded by a squad of Dutch soldiers. Chester also was limping in that direction. Stubbs, in spite of his opposition to fighting, was lending the lad a helping hand.
"They'll make it, if I can hold these fellows a minute," muttered
McKenzie.
He faced the foe again, and from a pocket brought forth a second automatic.
"Not for nothing was I called the best shot in the northwest," he said quietly.
Hal's idea in not waiting to assist in the flight of the others, McKenzie knew on the instant. The list they had risked so much to get must be taken from German territory at all hazards. McKenzie knew, too, that Chester and Stubbs were simply following instructions when they also fled. It was every man for himself. A German bullet whistled close to the Canadian.
"Well," he said quietly, "I'll get a few of you before you drop me."
He faced his foes unflinchingly.
CHAPTER XII
SAFE AT LAST
McKenzie's arms went up again—not shoulder high—just to his hips. For McKenzie, in his early days, had been reckoned in the Canadian northwest as the most deadly shot in the country. He fired from his hips and aimed by instinct and not by sight.