Then he looked suddenly at Tom and winked unmirthfully with a kind of worried annoyance.
"Think they can hit us from there?
Think they know where we are ?" Tom asked in the faintest whisper.
"'Tisn't that," Roscoe whispered back.

"Look at that flat stone under the bush there.

Shh! I couldn't get him in the right light before.

Shh!" Narrowing his eyes, Tom scanned the earth at the foot of the bush and was just able to discern a little band of black upon a gray stone there.
It was evidently a wet spot on the dusty stone and for a second he thought it was blood; then the staggering truth dawned upon him that in shooting the Hun in the very act of letting loose the murderous liquid Roscoe had shot a hole in the hogshead and the potent poison was flowing out rapidly and down into the stream.
And just in that moment there flashed into Tom's mind the picture of that weary, perspiring boy in khaki down in captured Cantigny, who had mopped his forehead, saying, "A drink of water would go good now.".