e north was lighted by
their flashes. McCready's bump of direction proved to be a good one for
the sought-for retreat was soon located. As they deposited their burdens
and looked back, the lights of two trucks could be seen approaching
across the plain from the factory. Hurriedly they mounted the machine
gun. Dr. Bird straightened up and listened carefully.

"The guns are sounding less frequently," he said. "Possibly the _Denver_
has had enough and is pulling out."

"If I know Captain Evans as well as I think I do, the _Denver_ is not
retreating," replied McCready grimly.

"I hope she's hammering the fort out of existence," said the doctor.
"However, our main interest just now is on the land front. Gunners to
the fore. Carnes, you aren't so good at this, better let McCready and me
handle them."

* * * * *

The trucks approached slowly. Presently the American plane loomed up in
the glare of their headlights. A powerful searchlight mounted on the
leading truck swept the country. Discovery was a matter of moments.
Lieutenant McCready trained his gun carefully and pressed the trigger. A
rattle of fire came from the Browning. A crash was heard from the truck
and the searchlight winked out.

"Bull's-eye!" cried Carnes exultantly.

"Down, you fool!" cried the doctor as he swept the detective from his
feet and threw him down behind a rock. His action was none too soon. A
burst of machine gun fire came from the trucks and a hail of bullets
splattered on the rocks a few yards from them. McCready crawled back to
his gun.

"Wait a minute, Lieutenant," counseled the doctor. "A burst of fire from
here will give them our location and probably do them little damage.
Wait until they try to rush us."

They did not have long to wait. A guttural shout came from a point a few
yards away and the sound of running feet came to their ears. The rush
was directed toward a point a few yards to the left of where they
crouched. Dr. Bird swung his gun around. As the rush passed them, he
released his trigger. A volley of screams and oaths from the plain
answered the crackle of the Browning. McCready's gun joined in with a
staccato burst of fire. The attack could not live before that rain of
death. A few running feet were heard from the darkness and a few
groans. Presently the roar of a motor came from the direction of the
parked trucks. It retreated into the distance and all was quiet.

"Round two goes to us