crab-fashion over into
the providential cutting in which I had taken shelter. He was wiping his
forehead with the back of his hand, and he looked very solemn and rather
frightened. 'Did you spot that chap crouching in that V-shaped cutting
down there?' he said. 'I thought he was one of our old crowd at first,
but what with that cursed light and the excitement I could not be
certain.'

"'I saw nothing.'

"'Just before the flare went up I noticed a flash lamp; one of those
things used to give signals with. I got an awful turn then.'

"'Rot,' I said: 'I don't believe a word of it.'

"'Do you mind coming over this way then?' said Tommy.

"In the pitch-black darkness, guided by Tommy, I stumbled up a path
which I'll swear was all of a one in three gradient. We came out upon a
little ledge overlooking what we now knew to be the German lines. Tommy
motioned me to keep my eye on the V-shaped cutting in the slag below us.

"'I think the beggar is down in the extreme angle of the V,' he
whispered as he crawled beside me.

"Then I overbalanced, fell over the ridge, and dropped clean on to
something soft and yielding below. Red specks dotted the blackness
before my eyes for a few moments as I bounced on the hard stones. I
jumped up with a jerk and spun round to find, blocking my path, a
menacing figure regarding me over the barrel of a Browning pistol. In
the other hand he held an electric torch.

"'Don't move,' he said in good English.

"His tone was quiet and crisp, an' his face showed me that 'e was out
for blood.

"'I have it in my mind almost to be sorry for you, British Tommy,' he
said calmly, 'You know too much. I am going to decide on the best way to
dis----'

"He got as far as 'dis'--when something leaped out of the shadows and he
was hurled back with a sudden rush. It was Tommy, and he swung his heavy
Boche rifle and stove the man down with terrific force. There was a
dreadful half-choked, whimper and then silence.

"Tommy stood regarding the still form with a bleached face. He then bent
over him, but without touching, looked up at me.

"'Saved a firing party the trouble,' he said. 'He's dead all right.'

"He straightened himself up.

"'What the devil shall we do with it, McNab?'

"''Tis a spy he was,' I answered, 'and it's ten to one that he has a
code or some kind of papers tucked away on him. Just run through his
pockets before we leave him.'

"'No, no,' Tommy said, 'I can't touch him he'll haunt