"Here, lend a hand some of you," he commanded. "One of you fetch
some water!"

Two of the men bent over the unconscious lad and one raised his head
gently to his knee. A third dashed for the river, and a moment later
returned with his cap filled with water.

Hal sprinkled a few drops of water on his friend's face, and soon noticed
signs of returning consciousness. Finally Chester opened his eyes and
smiled feebly.

"Are you much hurt, old fellow?" asked Hal anxiously.

"No," came the feeble response. "I don't think so. A bullet just grazed
my side. I don't know how I came to topple over like that."

Quickly Hal unloosened his friend's coat, tore open his shirt and
examined his wound.

"It's only a scratch," he said, straightening up at last. "Here," pulling
out his handkerchief, "I'll fix it up until we can have a surgeon look at
it. You will be able to walk in a few minutes."

"I'm able right now," said Chester, struggling to his feet.

Leaning heavily on Hal's arm, Chester turned his eyes toward the river
bank, which now was lined with British troops, who were firing steadily
at forms disappearing on the opposite side of the stream. The approach of
the English in force had caused the Germans to beat a rapid retreat. From
the opposite shore, however, still came puffs of smoke, and bullets