held it loosely by the barrel, and waited.

For five minutes the silence of the night was unbroken,

then from the east came a single shot, followed immediately by

a scattering fusillade and a chorus of hoarse cries.

Billy Byrne smiled. The sentry resumed indications of

quickness. From the barracks beyond the guardhouse came sharp

commands and the sounds of men running. From the opposite

end of the town the noise of battle welled up to ominous

proportions.

Billy heard the soldiers stream from their quarters and a

moment later saw them trot up the street at the double.

Everyone was moving toward the opposite end of the town

except the lone sentinel before the guardhouse. The moment

seemed propitious for his attempt.

Billy peered around the corner of the guardhouse. Conditions

were just as he had pictured they would be. The sentry

stood gazing in the direction of the firing, his back toward the

guardhouse door and Billy.

With a bound the American cleared the space between

himself and the unsuspecting and unfortunate soldier. The butt

of the heavy revolver fell, almost noiselessly, upon the back of

the sentry's head, and the man sank to the ground without

even a moan.

Turning to the door Billy knocked the bar from its place,

the door swung in and Bridge slipped through to liberty.

"Quick!" said Billy. "Follow me," and turned at a rapid

run toward the south edge of the town. He made no effort

now to conceal his movements. Speed was the only essential,

and the two covered the ground swiftly and openly without

any attempt to take advantage of cover.

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