The lad no longer stood erect. He was crawling on his hands and knees. With each inch advanced he knew his danger increased; but he knew, too, that every foot of ground he covered brought him that much closer to success.
"I'll get through quietly if I can," he told himself, "but if I'm discovered I'll make a run and a fight for it. Once in the darkness of No Man's Land beyond I've as much chance of getting away as the boches have of catching me."
The lad halted suddenly. Footsteps were coming toward him, and a moment later Hal made out the figure of a German sentry approaching. The lad squirmed quickly but silently to one side and the German passed without seeing him.
"Close shave," the lad muttered to himself.
He moved forward again.
Other footsteps now approached and Hal made himself as small as possible on the ground. Looking up, he perceived the figures of half a dozen men only a few feet away. They were coming directly toward him. Hal realized that if he didn't act promptly, he would probably be stepped on.
He tried to squirm out of the way silently, but haste was too urgent for extreme caution and the sound of the lad's body gliding over the ground carried to the ears of the enemy.
"What's that?" demanded one of them, and all halted.
"What's what, Hans?" asked a second voice.
"I heard something moving there," said the man called Hans.