“She has it,” cried Garrick, springing up the bank after Dillon.

I followed and we three men and three dogs struck out again in earnest across country.

We had come upon a long stretch of woods, and the brambles and thick growth made the going exceedingly difficult.  Still, if it was hard for us now, it must have been equally hard for them as they broke through in the first place.

At last we came to the end of the woods.  The trail was now fresher than ever, and Dillon had difficulty in holding Cherry back so that the rest of us could follow.  As we emerged from the shadow of the trees into the open field, it seemed as if guns were blazing on all sides of us.

We were almost up with them.  They had separated and were not half a mile away, firing at random in our direction, as they heard the dogs.  Dillon drew up, Cherry tugging ahead.  He turned to the Airedales.  They had already taken in the situation, and were now darting ahead at what they could see, if not scent.

I felt a “ping!” on my chest.  I scarcely realized what it was until I heard something drop the next instant in the stubble at my feet, and felt a smarting sensation as if a sharp blow had struck me.  I bent down and from the stubble picked up a distorted bullet.

“These bullet-proof coats are some good, anyhow, at a distance,” remarked Garrick, close beside me, as he took the bullet from my fingers.  “Duck!  Back among the trees—­until we get our bearings!”

Another bullet had whizzed just past his arm as he spoke.

We dodged back among the trees, and slowly skirted the edge of the wood, where it bent around a little on the flank of the position from which the continuous firing was coming.

At the edge we stopped again.  We could go no further without coming out into the open, and the moon, just rising, above the trees, made us an excellent mark under such conditions.  Garrick peered out to determine from just where they were firing.

“Lucky for us that we had these coats,” he muttered, “or they would have croaked us, before we knew it.  These are our old friends, the anaesthetic bullets, too.  Even a little scratch from one of them and we should be hors de combat for an hour or two.”

“Shall we take a chance?” urged Dillon.

“Just a minute,” cautioned Garrick, listening.

The barking of the Airedales had ceased suddenly.  Cherry was straining at her leash to go.

“They have winged the two dogs,” exclaimed Garrick.  “Yes—­we must try it now—­at any cost.”

We broke from the cover, taking a chance, separating as much as we could, and pushing ahead rapidly, Dillon under his breath keeping Cherry from baying as much as possible.

I had expected a sharp fusillade to greet us as we advanced and wondered whether the coats would stand it at closer range.  Instead, the firing seemed to have ceased altogether.