Tom hurled himself through space. His intention was to pin one of the spies to the ground and try to hold him there until help came. Their outcries would of course arouse every man within hundreds of yards of the spot, and lights must soon be brought to bear on the scene.
Although Tom's calculations may have been all right, he did not meet with as much success as he had probably anticipated. Perhaps the wary Boche guessed what was coming; at any rate he succeeded in squirming from under, and when Tom landed it was only to feel the other rolling out of his reach.
But he went after him like lightning, bent on attaining his goal.
The Hun was scrambling desperately in the endeavor to get on his feet. Tom hurled him over, and closed with him. Finding his escape thus cut off, the other commenced to fight like a tiger, clawing and struggling furiously.
They had it "hammer-and-tongs" for a brief space of time. Then Tom slipped and lost his grip, upon which the other rolled over several times, got to his knees, then his feet, and started to run.
But he counted without reckoning on the staying qualities of the American. Tom had always been called a "sticking-plaster" by his fellow players on the football field. He was not to be
