, was
projecting obliquely in the air. All around the grass was burning,
while already the luckless man's uniform was smouldering.

Abandoning all thought of concealment in his desire to aid his foe
Wilmshurst sprang to his feet, and supporting his useless left arm by
his right doubled towards the spot where the man had dropped.

As he drew near he saw that the German's rifle had been hurled quite
ten yards. The barrel was partly wrenched from the stock, and for a
distance of about a foot from the muzzle the steel had been split,
revealing the glittering rifling.

Taking in these details at a glance Dudley gained the side of the
prostrate man. One look was sufficient to show that the Hun had been
killed outright.

"Hard lines, Fritz," exclaimed Wilmshurst aloud. "I'm glad I didn't
have to pot you."

Something prompted him to grasp the dead man by his shoulder and turn
him over on his back. As he did so, Dudley gave vent to an involuntary
ejaculation of surprise.

"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "It's von Gobendorff."

* * * * *

It was close on sunset when Wilmshurst, racked with pain, returned to
the bivouac. Willing hands assisted him from the saddle, yet, firmly
declining to submit to the attentions of the medical officer until he
completed his task, the wounded subaltern made a lucid report and
submitted his maps for inspection.

Next morning he was sent down to the base hospital, protesting the
while that the wound was not serious enough to keep him away from his
platoon just as the fun was commencing.

* * * * *

A fortnight later, while Wilmshurst was convalescing at Kilwa, he was
surprised by a deputation of officers of his regiment--Spofforth,
Danvers, Laxdale, and three or four more.

"How goes it, old man?" exclaimed Spofforth, the leader of the
deputation. "You've something to show for your little dust-up."

"I have," admitted Dudley. "A clean puncture through the arm. But
what are you fellows doing here? You don't mean to say that the
business is over?"

"By something I mean the M.C.," continued Jock Spofforth, ignoring
Wilmshurst's questions. "It's in to-day's orders, so we're here to
offer congrats. The battalion's doing well--a D.S.O., two M.C.'s and
five D.C.M.'s; not a bad record, eh, what?"

"Yes, the show's over as far as we are concerned," added Laxdale. "We
marched in yesterday. It was a jolly satisfactory piece of