of grass and held them out.

"The shortest goes on watch," he said. Carnes and the doctor drew,
McCready exhibited the remaining bit of grass. It was the shortest of
the three. He waited until the next shell burst above them and then
stepped out from the shelter.

"I'll relieve you in fifteen minutes," said Carnes as he left.

"Right."

* * * * *

When the lieutenant had left, Dr. Bird removed the gag from Feodrovna's
mouth and tried to argue with her, but the Russian girl only glared her
hatred and refused to talk other than to abuse him. With a sigh, the
doctor gave over his efforts and talked to Carnes. The time passed
slowly with a constant rain of shells on the knoll.

"It's time for my relief," said Carnes at length. As he spoke the hail
of shells on the knoll ceased.

"What the dickens?" cried the doctor.

He and Carnes jumped from their shelter and ran over the knoll. On the
plain a few hundred yards from them, a straggling line of Russians were
advancing with fixed bayonets. McCready was nowhere in sight.

"Where the devil is McCready?" cried the doctor. "He must have been
killed. Hello, one of the guns is gone, too. There's only a belt and a
half of ammunition left. I'll try to break that attack up."

He advanced to the gun and trained it carefully. When he pressed the
trigger a dull click came from the gun.

"Misfire!" he cried. He drew back the bolt and inserted a fresh
cartridge. Again the gun clicked harmlessly. Dr. Bird ejected the shell
and examined it. A deep indentation appeared on the primer. Hurriedly he
tried a half dozen more cartridges but they refused to explode. He
turned a keen gaze toward the trucks. On the ground was set a tube-like
projector pointing toward them. Dr. Bird swore softly and jerked his
pistol from its holster. The hammer clicked futilely on a cartridge.

"Stymied!" he exclaimed. "They have that portable ray mechanism, with
them, which disabled our bombs. It's hand to hand, Carnesy, old dear. I
wonder where McCready is."

* * * * *

The Russians approached slowly, keeping their lines straight. They were
within two hundred yards of the knoll. Suddenly from a point a hundred
yards to the left of the end of the land came a rattle of fire. The
attacking line dropped in a pile of grotesque heaps.

"It's McCready!" shouted Carnes. A little ravine ran from the knoll
toward the trucks. Sitting in the ravine