From his position on his prisoner Greg fired coolly as often as he could do so without endangering a French comrade. He longed to rush in closer, but did not intend to let his prisoner get away. Only one German got close enough to thrust at Holmes, who shot him through the heart before the bayonet lunge could be made.
What was left of the first and second waves was being beaten back. Major Wells, Prescott and Noll Terry leaped to the parapet with two French soldiers in their section to beat back the foe.
Just then a third wave arrived. The fighting became brisker. Dick Prescott felt a weight against his head. He staggered dizzily, felt arms clutch at him, and had only a hazy notion of what followed.
The Germans went back, carrying a few prisoners with them. A minute later the enemy barrage lifted.
"You may get up now," Greg admonished his captive, as he leaped to his feet.
"You've accounted for one of the enemy," smiled Captain Ribaut, as he came up.
"Captured him at the first pop out of the box," Holmes declared proudly. "I told him to lie still, and he surely did. I'd have hurt him if he had tried to get away."
"How did you take him?" Ribaut asked, kneeling beside the still man.
"Threw him with an old football tackle."
"The Hun's neck is broken," reported the French captain, raising the enemy's head and letting it fall.