The ground gave way beneath him suddenly and he felt
himself falling. He relaxed instinctively, and came down on hands and
knees on a mass of leaves and twigs. He had fallen into a sort of
shallow pit, but deep enough to shelter him. It seemed to him to be like
a deadfall, such as he knew trappers sometimes make. The place was ideal
for such a use, but now no steel-jawed trap yawned for him. And it was
only a moment before he realized that this was just the hiding-place for
him--and one, moreover, for which he himself might have searched in
vain.
"They'll never look for me as near the wreck as this," he said to
himself. "They'll spread out probably, but I think I'll be safe here. As
safe as anywhere, and it will give me a chance to find out what's
happening, too."
The side of the pit nearest the road was almost open, though it was
screened by bushes and foliage. Fred, however, was able to peer out and
to see the dancing flames, giving a weird and ghostly appearance to the
scene in the road. The Germans were very close now and he had just time
to poke up some branches to hide the opening through which he had
fallen.
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