He had it ready. But it would not suit the Germans.
At the point that he had selected for his attempt, there was an opening in the wire that had been hastily strung to guard against a possible night attack by the American forces.
Up and down in front of this a stalwart sentry was pacing. He stopped and looked sharply at Frank, as the latter approached. When he was ten feet distant the sentry presented his bayonet and called:
"Halt! Wer da?"
"Ein freund," responded Frank.
"Losung," demanded the sentinel, asking for the countersign.
"America!" answered Frank, and hurled his revolver full in the sentry's face.
The heavy butt of the weapon landed plumb in the middle of the German's forehead. He had opened his mouth to shout, but no sound came forth. The rifle fell from his hands and he went down like a log.
With a leap Frank got through the gap in the wire and started running like a deer toward the American lines.
There were startled shouts behind him, hoarse commands, a rushing of feet and a crackling volley of shots. The bullets whizzed and zipped close to him and he felt a sharp sting as one of them grazed the lower part of his left arm. Once he stumbled and fell headlong, but he scrambled hastily to his feet and ran on.