From out of the corn patch a curse reached his ears.
"If you'd rather be a dead soldier, all right," came the ugly response. "Give it to him good and hot!"
Hal had already slipped back the bolt of his piece. Now, as fast as he could handle the material, and while still down on one knee, he slipped five cartridges into his magazine, and a sixth he drove home in the chamber.
Bright flashes, swift reports greeted him from two points in the corn patch. These points were about twenty feet apart.
The young soldier simply couldn't cover both points of attack.
From the way the bullets whistled past his face and body the recruit knew that both his enemies were firing in deadly earnest.
And now, from a third point, another assailant joined in the firing, and Hal marveled, with each second, that he still remained alive. He felt as though he were the center of a leaden storm.
Yet, as coolly as he could, Soldier Hal chose the man at the left and drove two shots straight in the direction of the flashes.
"He's got me," yelled a cursing voice.
"I'll get you all, if you don't stop shooting and come out," warned Overton coolly.