"A ripper, sure!" was Herbert's reply. "You ought to keep mighty well down, McGuire. 'Tisn't safe to show yourself too much."
"Do you—ah—know," said the ex-glove salesman, "I do not believe those fellows can shoot well enough to—ah—hit me this far away. It is very fine shooting to do so."
"They are not all poor shots, by any means," asserted Herbert.
"I think I—ah—would take chances with the best of them and how greatly I—ah—hope for the opportunity." The young man smiled in the very sweet but sad sort of way that must have helped him sell many a pair of gloves. He turned about and crept to a pile of stones and began another survey of the hunting field.
Herbert wondered where the German marksman could have been located that had harassed the gun crew earlier in the morning and that he had come out to locate and drive off. There were plenty of hiding places, to be sure, but the fellow must disclose his position now if he began shooting again. And it was the business of the sniping squad to stop this.
To the right three of Herb's men had located themselves, this offering the likeliest situation for protection to the gun. It was too far away from the German trench to be in danger from rifle fire, but here enemy snipers could venture out.
Over to the left the ground was clearer of long grass, low bushes and rocks and still beyond that, in No Man's Land, perfectly bare.
The young corporal had about given up the idea of snipers immediately opposing his position. He was thinking of returning to the pit to perform certain duties falling constantly upon a leader of even a few men, for he must do all in his power for their comfort and well being, when he heard a low exclamation come from McGuire. Herbert even recognized the halting "ah" somewhere in it, though he did not fully catch the words. But he saw the man quickly level his gun over the stone pile and fire.
There was no answering shot, and for some little time McGuire lay there inert. Herb could not fully see the precise object of the ex-salesman's marksmanship; he was aware only of a shell pit and its tossed-up earth pile, and a gun muzzle sticking above it. This gradually was lowered.
"Lay low, McGuire!" Herbert cautioned, seeing the fellow beginning to rise up and peer over his stone pile in an effort to see what effect his last shot had taken. And then he was aware that McGuire was not looking in the direction of the shell pit.