their number fell, but undaunted the others still continued the
mad race. Closer and closer to the half-ruined chateau they came.

"They're firing from the tower," shouted Jacques. "The place is
occupied."

"What of it?" demanded Armande. "So much the better."

An occasional flash from the narrow windows of the tower told that the
Germans were using the place for defense. How many of them might be in
there at present no one could tell. Not one of the attackers faltered
on this account, however. Apparently they did not care whether four or
forty men might be waiting for them.

Straight up to the front door Armande dashed. It was open and he
rushed inside. Close at his heels followed the rest of the daring
little company. A fusillade of bullets sang about their ears but no
one was touched.

Up the winding stairs ahead of them three German soldiers could be seen
fleeing. Their escape cut off below they had made for the only safe
place left, the tower of the chateau. Armande was for following right
after them, but Jacques restrained him.

"Wait," he cautioned. "They're above you and have us at a
disadvantage."

"But they may escape us," protested Armande.

"How can they? They can't leave that tower by any other means than
these stairs. They can't possibly escape."

"We must drive them out of there," insisted Armande.

"We will," exclaimed Jacques. "We want to plan the best way to do it
though."

"You stand guard at the door," Armande directed one of the men. "Let
us know if you see any sign of a German out there."

The soldier took his place and Armande advanced cautiously towards the
foot of the stairway. The men were huddled together on the ground
floor, irresolute as to what course they should now pursue.

Suddenly a hand-grenade came flying down the stairs, bumped along on
the last two steps and then came to rest in the center of the little
group gathered there. It was plain to be seen that it was about to
explode and that if it did so, practically the entire hand would be
killed.

Quick as a flash one of the men threw himself down upon the deadly
bomb. Hardly had he done so when it exploded. There was an
ear-splitting roar and the soldier, Fische by name, was literally blown
to pieces. No one else was harmed.

"He saved our lives," exclaimed Jacques feelingly. "Who was that?"

"Fische," replied one of the men.

"Well, we'd all be dead now if it hadn't been for his nerve and q