"The
swine!" he
roared.
"The
filthy,
unsportsmanly,
dog-eating
Prussian
swine!
They're
turning
MACHINE-GUNS
on him!"In
place of
the
intermittent
rattle of
rifleshots
now came
the
purring
cough of
rapidfire
guns. The
bullets
hit the
upper
hillside
in
swathes,
beginning
a few
yards
behind the
flying
collie and
moving
upward
toward him
like a
sweeping
of an
unseen
scythe.
"That's
the
wind-up!"
groaned
Mahan.
"Lord,
