the river, carrying with it a smell that was far from pleasant. The picket line stretched a distance of two hundred yards; and at one point there was a truck garden, now deserted, containing potatoes, onions, and a few vegetables pecullar to this district of China.
As Gilbert went the rounds, he came upon Carl Stummer, who was stationed where there was an inlet surrounded by a fringe of tall reeds. He found the German soldier peering intently into the reeds.
"See anything unusual?" he asked in a low voice.
"Hush!" came in a whisper. "I dink a Chink vos schwimmin' out dare!"
At once Gilbert became silent, and felt of his pistol to see if the weapon was ready for use.
A few minutes passed,—just then the time seemed much longer,—and Carl pointed to a spot just beyond the reeds. "See dot?" he asked lowly. "Is dot a log of vood?"
Gilbert did not reply immediately, for he was straining his eyes to pierce the semi-darkness. He felt certain that what the German soldier saw was a log of wood; but it was moving along in an uncer-
