“It ain’t so bad,” muttered Macniff.  “If the Germans up there catch McKay and the girl they’ll kill ’em and clear out.”

“Yes, but they don’t know that the Americans have crossed the wire.  The neck of woods is open!”

“McKay may go over the peak.”

“McKay knows this mountain,” grumbled Skelton.  “He’s a fox, too.  You don’t think he’d travel an open path, do you?  And how can we catch him now?  We were to have warned the Germans that the two had crossed the wire and then our only chance was to string out across that neck of woods between the peak and the cliffs.  That’s the way McKay will travel, not on a path in full moonlight.  Aw—­I’m sick—­what with Helsa doing that to me—­I can’t get over it!”

Macniff started nervously and began to run along the path, upward: 

“Beat it, Harry,” he called back over his shoulder; “it’s the only way out o’ this now.”

“God,” whimpered Skelton, “if I ever get my hooks on Helsa!” His voice ended in a snivel but his features were white and ferocious as he started running to overtake Macniff.

Recklow, breathing easily, his iron frame insensible to any fatigue from the swift climb, halted finally at the base of the abrupt slope which marked the beginning of the last ascent to the summit.

The girl, Helsa, speechless from exertion, came reeling up among the rocks and leaned gasping against a pine.

“Now,” said Recklow, “you can wait here for your two friends.  We’ve come by a short cut and they won’t be here for more than half an hour.  What’s the matter?  Are you ill?” for the girl, overcome by the speed of the ascent, had dropped to the ground at the foot of the tree and sat there, her head resting against the trunk.  Her eyes were closed and she was breathing convulsively.

“Are you ill?” he repeated, bending over her.

She heard him, opened her eyes, then shook her head faintly.

“All right.  You’re a brave girl.  You’ll get your breath in a few minutes.  There’s no hurry.  You can take your time.  Your friends will be along in half an hour or so.  Wait here for them.  I am going on to warn the Germans by the Crucifix that the two Americans are across the Swiss wire.”

The girl, still speechless, wiped the blinding sweat from her eyes and tried to clear the dishevelled hair from her face.  Then, with a great effort she found her voice: 

“But the—­Americans—­will pass—­first!” she gasped.  “I can’t—­stay here alone.”

“If they do pass, what of it?  They can’t see you.  Let them pass.  We hold the summit and the neck of the woods.  Tell that to Macniff and Skelton when they come; that’s what I want you here for.  I want to cut off the Yankees’ retreat.  Do you understand?”

“I—­understand,” she breathed.

“You’ll carry out my orders?”

She nodded, strove to straighten up, then with both hands on her breast she sank back utterly exhausted.  Recklow looked at her a moment in grim silence, then turned and walked away.