"Here's one of the bullets, sir," replied Roger, tossing over one that
had penetrated the earth near where he was lying, and come out after
striking a stone. "That's a bit of Hun lead all right."

He tossed it over to the officer, who was stretched out in the young,
green grain near by.

"Yes, that's German all right," was the answer. "It's larger than
ours. I thought perhaps some of our men might have gone in there to
pepper the Huns. Well, we've got to get it--that's all."

"And soon, too," murmured Jimmy. "Whew! This is fierce!"

A hail of lead from the weapon in the old red mill drew this
exclamation from him. Fortunately the men were low enough to escape
the worst of the firing, but some were wounded and one killed.

"There's two guns in that mill, sir!" called Franz, who was lying near
Bob. "They're both firing together."

"You're right," was the lieutenant's comment. "Well, so much the more
work for us to do. How many of us are here?"

It developed, by an improvised roll call, that there were fifteen,
including our five Brothers. With the lieutenant who was in immediate
command, there were sixteen.

"We'll all go!" was the officer's decision. "Fill your magazines, get
your hand grenades where you can reach 'em and be ready for the rush.
It's got to be a rush, and I hope it lasts long enough for some of us