"Talk about sniping," grinned Bart. "Those fellows will wake up after a while to the fact that they've tackled a hornet's nest. Even a thick German head can take in an idea sometimes."
"Especially if it's pushed in by a bullet," added Tom.
Just then a volley came from the besiegers, and a rain of bullets buried themselves in the trees behind which the boys were crouching.
Bart gave a sharp exclamation.
"Are you hurt, Bart?" asked Frank anxiously.
"Not much, I guess," replied Bart, putting his hand to his shoulder where the cloth had been torn away. "Just ridged the flesh. It doesn't amount to anything."
There was a little blood issuing from the shoulder, but Frank was relieved on examination to find that the bullet had just grazed the flesh, breaking the skin but doing no serious damage. He put a little ointment and lint on it and held the bandage firm with a bit of adhesive plaster, though Bart declared that it was not worth bothering about.
"Here they come!" cried Tom.
The besiegers had gathered themselves for a rush, and now they came in a body toward the trees, firing as they ran.
The rifles of the Army Boys spoke, and two of their assailants went down. The rest faltered for a moment, and in that moment another of their number fell.