But now his pursuers were
perilously near. Those precious seconds lost perhaps had been fatal.

His fingers gripped the handle of his knife. He would not be taken.
Capture in that uniform meant certain death. No German should gloat
over his execution. If brought to bay he would die fighting then and
there, using his knife so savagely that his enemies would have to shoot
him to save themselves.

Commands to halt came from behind him accompanied by bullets, but he
only ran the swifter.

But just then a tumult rose from another quarter. The lines in front
of him seemed to awake. Lights flashed here and there, a mass of
figures detached themselves from the gloom, and in the light of a
star-shell Frank saw a detachment of American troops coming on the run!

His pursuers saw them too and the chase slackened. There was a hurried
gathering for consultation, a volley of shots, and then the Germans
beat a hasty retreat, hotly pursued by a band of the Americans while
another group of them rushed up and surrounded Frank.

"Why, it's a Hun!" exclaimed one of them disgustedly, as his eyes fell
on the uniform. "Only a deserter, and we thought they were chasing one
of our own men."

"That's one on us," remarked another. "The rest of the boys will have
the laugh on us for sure."

"Do I look like a Heinie?" demanded Frank with a grin. "I can lick the
fellow that calls me one."

A shout of amazement rose from the crowd as they gathered close to him.

"Sheldon! Sheldon! Old scout! Bully boy!"

They mauled and pounded him until he was sore, for he was the idol of
the regiment. There was a rush, and Bart and Billy had their arms
around him and fairly hugged the breath out of him.

"Frank! Frank!" they exclaimed delightedly. "We thought you were
gone. The last we saw of you, you were fighting like a tiger, but then
the enemy reinforcements came and we were swept away from you. We
didn't know whether you were dead or a prisoner. Thank God you're
neither one nor the other."

"Pretty close squeak," smiled Frank happily. "But a bit of luck, and
these two legs of mine carried me through, and I'm worth a dozen dead
men yet. But I'm hungry as a wolf, and if you fellows don't feed me up
you'll have me dead on your hands."

"Trust us," laughed Bart. "You can have the whole shooting match. The
whole mess will go hungry if necessary to fill you up. Come along now
and tell us the story."

It was a happy crowd tha