For a moment Jimmy's companions did not quite understand him. Was he
perpetrating some grim joke, or had he received an injury on the head
that made him irresponsible?

Suddenly the concussion of a heavy gun shook the mill, making the old
walls rattle and sending up little clouds of grain dust from nooks and
crannies where it had gathered for many peaceful years.

"The Germans have surrounded us?" cried Roger. "Do you mean that?"

"Look for yourself," said Jimmy, and his very calmness as he pointed
from the window seemed to indicate that he was master of himself.

His four companions looked as he indicated. Rolling down from the
hills, which surrounded the little valley in which the mill was
located, were ranks of gray-clad men; Huns beyond a doubt. And they
were coming in force.

"Do you suppose they are after us?" asked Bob, and he was quite
surprised when his four chums burst into laughter. No, I am wrong.
Only three of them laughed--Roger, Jimmy and Franz. Iggy looked on
almost as uncomprehendingly as did Bob, but Iggy was staring at a dead
German on the floor of the mill--a German he had killed by a bayonet
thrust from behind, when that same German was about to fire his
revolver, pointblank, at Roger. Iggy was filled with many emotions as
he looked at his work--work undertaken and carried out for Liberty.

"What's the matter?" asked Bob, a bit nettled. "Doesn't it look as
though they were after us?"