rifle carefully
and with the utmost caution began to work his way among the branches.

Some of these were so thick as to be themselves almost like tree
trunks, and he had no apprehension on the score of his weight. He
passed to the next tree, and then to the next. There he paused,
parting the branches carefully.

He knew that his comrades were keeping their part of the bargain, for
the thud of bullets against the tree that sheltered the enemy was
almost continuous.

For several minutes Frank looked for his enemy. Then his search was
rewarded, and through an open space he found himself looking squarely
into the eyes of the man who, a few minutes before, had tried to send a
bullet through his brain.

The man saw him at the same instant. Like a flash he leveled his rifle
and fired.

For such a hurried aim the shot was good. Frank felt the whistle of
the bullet as it almost grazed him. But it was not good enough.

The next instant Frank's rifle spoke. The man flung out his arms,
toppled over and fell with a crash into the gorge that the tree
overhung. The rifle clanged after him. There would be no more sniping
by that particular marksman from that particular tree.

There was a shout from the squad who had witnessed the duel, and as
Frank slid down the tree he was greeted with acclamations.

"A nervy thing, Sheldon," commended Wilson.

"He almost got me, though," returned Frank. "It was a case of touch
and go."

"He was a brave man," was the tribute of the corporal, "though that
particular kind of work has always seemed to me something like murder.
He shot his victims without giving them a chance. His work on land was
that of the U-boats on the sea--a species of assassination."

The squad went on with special caution and with a close watch on the
trees. But noon came without further adventure and they got out their
rations and prepared to enjoy them at the foot of a spreading maple.

They were perhaps half way through the meal, which they had seasoned
with jokes and laughter, when there was a rustling in the bushes near
at hand. Instantly they leaped to their feet and reached for their
rifles.

"Who goes there?" demanded the corporal.

There was no answer.

"Answer or we shoot!" cried Wilson.

The bushes parted and a young peasant girl stepped forth.

She was a pretty girl of about eighteen. Her face bore the marks of
tears, her hair was dishevelled, and she was in a state of extreme
agi