“Amos!”

That was Jack whispering softly in his ear, and the one addressed squeezed his chum’s arm to let him understand that he heard.

“Do you see him up there?”

“Sure.”

“We want to creep up as close as we can.”

“Then what?”

“When you hear me begin to yell join in, and both rush toward him. Get that, do you, Amos?”

“Yes, but he’s sure to break the cord, and let the kite go.”

“All right. That answers our purpose,” Jack told him, which certainly was a fact the other had not considered—they were not trying to capture the kite that carried the twin red lights; it would be sufficient if they could induce the unknown spy to break the straining cord, and let the airy fabric bearing the signal lanterns float into space beyond, to eventually seek the ground.

Once more the boys moved forward.

The base of the low elevation lay before them, and Jack was now down on his hands and knees starting to make the ascent. It was beginning to get real exciting, and Amos felt his heart thumping heavily against his ribs as he contemplated the surprise and alarm of the spy when they started to giving tongue.

As they drew closer they could make out what he was doing much better than before. He had something in his hands, which Amos at once decided must be the stick about which the stout cord had been wound. That the kite was of fair size and pulled at times rather strenuously he judged from the way the unknown used his arms.

Jack seemed to be decidedly clever about this creeping business. Amos was afraid he could hardly be put in the same class as his cousin. He even feared that on several occasions he must have inadvertently snapped some small twig that his knees pressed heavily upon.

The sounds seemed almost like thunder notes to Amos, so keyed up were the boy’s nerves, but that must have been mostly imagination, for the man did not appear to have become alarmed by the sound.

There was no longer the slightest doubt concerning his occupation, for by now Amos could see that he certainly clutched some object that required considerable effort to hold. The kite probably was very large, Amos decided.

Perhaps the man had already quite enough of his task, for they could plainly hear him grumbling to himself, and Amos was sure he caught low spoken words in unmistakable German.

As seen outlined against the gray sky beyond, the man appeared to be turned half way around. Instead of looking toward the quarter where the kite flew, his attention seemed to be wholly taken up in the opposite direction.

Amos was puzzled to account for this at first, but he quickly grasped the meaning. Of course, the spy was looking for some sign that would tell him his message had been seen and understood by those for whom it was intended.

Jack’s hand fell on the arm of his chum. Although no arrangement had been made between them, Amos guessed that the time was at hand for the coup his companion had arranged.

Then Jack gave tongue, and his experience on the cattle ranch in company with a lively set of cow-punchers had made him a first-class hand at letting out a fierce whoop.

Amos joined in with what vim he could muster, so that, taken in all, they managed to create a pretty respectable disturbance around that region.

It turned out just as Jack had surmised would be the case. The man who was signalling over the British lines to his German confederates immediately dropped the end of the cord connected with the kite that bore the twin red lights.

Amos, still shouting at the top of his voice, saw him duck down as though meaning to dodge any bullets that might be sent in his direction. After that, the figure of the spy was seen no more between them and the gray heavens. Judging from the medley of sounds that came from the other side of the mound it might be guessed that the man, either intentionally or through sheer accident, was rolling headlong down the slope.

Jack stopped yelling, and broke out into a laugh, in which his cousin naturally joined.

“Look at the kite falling!” the Western boy called out, and Amos turned just in time to see the twin red lights before they vanished behind some trees or other obstruction to his view, dropping lower all the time.

“We’ve done what we aimed to accomplish, Jack,” he went on to say, when he could catch his voice. “After all, it was as easy as falling off a log.”

“But I’m afraid he had his message up in the sky, whatever it stood for, long enough to do its work.”

As Jack said this he clutched hold of the other and whirled him around again so that his face was toward the northwest.

“That looks like a bursting rocket, as sure as you live!” exclaimed Amos, as he discovered a shower of colored stars far away, that seemed to be floating in space.

“It is just that,” admitted his chum.

“If I was over home I’d guess the Glorious Fourth had come around, Jack, though it’s generally considerably hotter than we’ve got it here. Do you think that rocket’s got anything to do with this red-fire kite business?”

“A whole lot, I should say, Amos.”

“You mean it was sent up in answer to his signal?”

“To tell him they saw and understood,” replied Jack.

“Then our work was for nothing,” grumbled Amos.

“Oh, I expected that we’d be too late to prevent the mischief,” the ranch boy admitted. “All the same, we had the fun of giving the spy a scare. I reckon he thought a whole regiment of the hated British was on top of him, by the way he scooted out of here.”

“Could you blame him?” demanded Amos. “Why, if it had been me I think that cowboy whoop of yours would have given me a cold chill. I’m pretty sure no German ever heard the equal of it.”

“Thanks. I take that as a compliment,” returned the other laughingly. “We’d better get out of this now.”

“Is there any danger?” asked Amos.

“None that I know of,” Jack told him, “but you never can tell what these Germans will do. That fellow may have discovered a trick was played on him. If he chose to be ugly he might creep back and open fire on us with his automatic.”

“Whew! standing up here as we are we’d offer a lovely target, with the sky for a background. Let’s vamoose the ranch, Jack, as I’ve heard you say lots of times.”

“I’m agreeable,” the other remarked. “There’s always a time for ducking even as there is for an advance. Come along, Amos.”

They hurried down the hill and started over the field with the intention of striking the road, so that they might return to the Belgian village.

About half way across, while stumbling along in the semi-darkness, both boys were suddenly electrified by seeing a bright flash close at hand, accompanied by a sharp, spiteful report.

Jack, who had rare presence of mind, and seemed to know just what to do under any and all conditions, pulled Amos down to the ground. As they flattened themselves out into as small a compass as possible other shots rang out in rapid succession. The reports came like the quick pulsations of Amos’ heart under the pressure of excitement.

When the last shot had sounded Jack started to his feet, half lifting his companion at the same time.

“Make for the road full tilt!” he called out, and with that they commenced to run as fast as the nature of the ground permitted.

Perhaps Amos wondered whether the unknown would be satisfied to let them get away. He may have even anticipated hearing the footfalls of a pursuer in their rear, and this possibility kept him keyed up to the top-notch of excitement.

The road proved to be near at hand, and the running boys managed to reach it without anything out of the way happening.

In his excitement Amos might possibly have turned in the wrong direction, but Jack had his bearings well in hand, and knew what he was doing.

They did not stop running with their arrival at the road; in fact, if anything, they increased their pace. Amos felt willing to keep it up just as long as his comrade thought best.

Presently they knew the village was at hand, and accordingly Jack slowed down to a walk. Both of them were breathing heavily, but Amos felt that he ought to understand what the plan of campaign was to be.

“Will you tell the old burgomaster about this adventure, Jack?” he asked.

“What’s the use?” the other replied. “There may be other spies around, and we’d only get ourselves in a peck of trouble. Besides, it wouldn’t do us any good. We don’t hanker after publicity. Fact is, in times like these the closer you draw your head in your shell, like the wise old tortoise, the better you’re off.”

Amos agreed with him. This was nothing new, for, as a rule, the boys were of one mind, though it might be said that Jack played the part of leader most of the time.

Upon reaching the humble house at which they were quartered, the boys soon ascended to their room, being tired, and in sore need of rest. The village lay there almost in absolute darkness. Here and there a candle might be burning, but oil was too scarce a commodity to be recklessly wasted when all things that were needed to be done could be accomplished in daylight, which cost nothing.

Jack had a treasured electric light in his pocket, a small affair, but which on numberless occasions he had found very useful. He used it sparingly because there was scant chance of replenishing the battery in case it ran out. Flashing it around the small chamber so that both of them might become familiar with their surroundings, Jack presently commenced getting ready for bed.

“I’m only meaning to take my shoes and coat off,” he told his cousin, “and then pull this cover over me.”

No doubt Amos thought this sounded a little suspicious, for he immediately turned on the other with a question.

“Does that mean you’re half expecting to be routed out of bed before morning, Jack?”

“Oh, not necessarily,” came the reply, “but I like to feel that I’m prepared for whatever may happen. Old habits, you know, picked up on the range when I served as night wrangler to the saddle band of horses, and there was danger of a stampede, a thunderstorm, or visits from cattle rustlers. Do just as you think best about it, Amos.”

“What’s good enough for you ought to suit me,” was the reply Amos made.

They had little trouble in getting asleep. The day’s arduous tramp had tired Amos in particular, and though he started to think over the exciting events that had come their way since dawn, it was not long before they became a jumble in his mind, and then gave way to dreams of the dear ones left at home.

If they awoke at various times during the night it was only to turn over and go to sleep again. Young, buoyant natures can easily throw off mental burdens that might keep older persons long wakeful.

Hours passed.

It must have been getting well on toward morning when Amos felt some one tugging at him. Still half dreaming, he imagined one of his boy friends must be annoying him while camping out.

“Let up on that, Billy, and go to sleep again,” he muttered; but the shaking only increased, and now some one was calling in his ear:

“Wake up, Amos, wake up I tell you; we’ve got to get out of this!”

At that Amos threw off the sense of drowsiness, and somehow managed to understand where he was.

“What’s all that terrible racket, Jack?” he demanded, as his ears caught a confusion of direful sounds outside.

“It must be a fierce German drive,” the other told him. “They are pushing the British back toward Ypres, and will likely occupy this village on their way.”