Army Boys on the Firing Line; or, Holding Back the German Drive Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  CAPTURED OR DEAD?

  There was very little sleep for the three Army Boys that night, inspite of the exhausting labors of the day. They rolled and tossedrestlessly in their bunks, tortured by conjectures as to the fate oftheir missing comrade.

  Good old Tom! He had been so close to all of them, loyal to hisheart's core, brave as a lion, ready to stand by them to his lastbreath. He had been beside them in many a tight scrape and had alwaysheld up his end. It seemed as though part of themselves had been tornfrom them.

  Still, while there was life there was hope, and they drew some comfortfrom the fact that he had not yet been found among the dead. If hewere a prisoner he might escape. They had all been in a German prisoncamp before and had gotten away. Perhaps Tom might have the same luckagain.

  They fell asleep at last, but the thought clung to them and assumed allsorts of fantastic attitudes in their dreams so that they awoke tiredand depressed.

  But there was little time on that morning to indulge in private griefs.The fight was on, and shortly after dawn the battle was resumed.

  All the forenoon it raged with great ferocity. But American grit andsteadfastness never wavered and the enemy was forced to retire withheavy loss. Not only had they failed to drive the Americans from theirpositions, but they had been driven back and forced to surrender alarge portion of their own, including the place where Frank hadcrouched in the shell hole the night before.

  Shortly after noon there came a lull while the Americans reorganizedthe captured positions. Infantry actions ceased, though the big guns,like belligerent mastiffs, still kept up their growling at each other.

  "Hot work," remarked Frank, as, after their work was done, the threefriends found themselves together in the shade of a great tree.

  "A corking scrap," agreed Bart, as he sprawled at his ease with hishands under his head.

  "The Heinies certainly put up a stiff fight," observed Billy, as hetied up his little finger from which blood was trickling.

  "They felt so sure that they were going to make mincemeat out of usthat it was hard to wake out of their dream," chuckled Frank. "Iwonder if they're still kidding themselves in Berlin that the Yankeescan't fight."

  "In Berlin perhaps but not here," returned Bart. "They've had too muchevidence to the contrary."

  "I wonder if this is really the beginning of the big drive that theHuns have been boasting about?" hazarded Billy.

  "I hardly think so," replied Frank. "There's no doubt that that'scoming before long, but the fighting yesterday and today was probablyto pinch us out of the salient we're holding. That would straightenout their line and then they'd be all ready for the big push. Whenthat comes there will be some doings."

  "The longer they wait the harder the job will be," said Billy. "Theysay that our boys are coming over so fast that they're fairly blockingthe roads."

  "They can't come too many or too fast," replied Bart. "And they'llsure be some busy bees after they get here."

  "Well, we're not worrying," observed Billy. "We're getting alongpretty well, thank you. By the way, Frank," he went on with a grin,"are you feeling any different on this ground today than you felt lastnight?"

  "Bet your life," laughed Frank. "It's just about here that I wascalling a Heinie a jackass. And at that same minute I was thinkingthat my life wasn't worth a plugged nickel."

  "Wonder how the fellow made out that you left in the shell hole,"chuckled Billy.

  "Oh, he was all right," replied Frank. "I shouldn't wonder if he wasrather chilly during the night, but no doubt they hauled him out in themorning."

  "He got off lucky, though," put in Bart. "It's the sentry who got thehot end of the poker. I wonder what he thought when he heard thatwatchword."

  "He didn't have much time to think," guessed Billy, "and to tell thetruth, I don't think he's done much thinking since. That revolver musthave hit him a fearful crack."

  "It's safe to say that it gave him a headache anyway," remarked Bartdrily.

  "Speaking of the revolver," said Frank, rising to his feet, "I'm goingto take a look for it. It was just over near that tree that I pluggedthe sentry and it's probably there yet."

  He searched industriously among the welter of debris and after a fewminutes arose with a shout.

  "Here's it is," he said, as he held up his recovered treasure, whichhad his initials scratched upon the butt. "Same old trusty and as goodas ever. It's saved my life many a time through the muzzle, but lastnight was the first time it saved it through the butt."

  He fondled the weapon lovingly for a moment, carefully cleaned andreloaded it, and thrust it in his belt.

  Just then a French colonel passed by, accompanied by two orderlies.The French had been holding a section of the line at the right of theAmericans and their uniform was a familiar sight, so that the boys onlygave the group a passing glance. But Frank's eyes lighted withpleasure when the colonel detached himself from the others and cameover with extended hand.

  Frank wrung the hand heartily.

  "Why, Colonel Pavet!" he exclaimed. "This is a great pleasure! Ididn't know that you were in this locality."

  "My regiment is only two miles from here," replied the colonel, hisface beaming. "I need not say how glad I always am to see the braveyoung soldier who saved my life."

  "What I did any one else would have done," responded Frank lightly.

  "But no one else did," laughed the colonel. "And from what I hear fromyour commander you've been doing similar things ever since. I justheard of your daring escape last night. It was gallantly done, _monami_."

  "Luck was with me," replied Frank.

  "It usually is in such exploits," was the visitor's reply. "You knowthe old saying that 'fortune favors the brave.' But I'll spare yourblushes and come down to something that will probably interest youmore. Did you get that letter from Andre, my brother, about yourmother's property?"

  "Why, no, I didn't," answered Frank. "When was it written?"

  "That's strange," said the colonel, a puzzled look coming over hisface. "I received a letter from Andre day before yesterday and he saidthat he had written to you by the same mail."

  "Well, you know the mail is rather irregular just now," replied Frank."No doubt it will get to me before long. Perhaps your brother told yousomething of what was in the letter he wrote to me."

  "Not in detail. He just mentioned that he was very anxious to get holdof a former butler in your grandfather's family who is now in theranks. They had his testimony in part before he was called intoservice, but he had not been cross-examined. Andre seems to feel surethat he can extract information from him that will aid your mother tocome into possession of the estate. Andre's judgment is good, and asyou know, he is one of the leading lawyers of Paris."

  "He is too good, and you also, to take all this trouble in our behalf,"said Frank warmly. "My mother and I can never thank you enough."

  "The debt will be always on our side," responded the colonel with awave of the hand. "By the way, how is your mother? I hope she iswell."

  "She was well when I last heard from her," replied Frank, "andhappy--that is as happy as she can be while we are separated from eachother."

  "She is a true daughter of France," said the colonel, "and she shouldbe happy to have so brave a son. Please remember me to her when youwrite. _Au revoir_," and with a friendly smile he passed on.

  "Still hobnobbing with the swells, I see," remarked Billy, as Frankrejoined his chums.

  "He was telling me of a letter that his brother had written me about mymother's property," explained Frank. "Queer that it hasn't reached me.Did any of you fellows get any mail yesterday?"

  "I got a couple of letters," replied Billy. "Tom handed them to mejust before we went into action yesterday morning."

  "Come to think of it, Tom was asking for you at the same time," saidBart. "He'd brought down the mail for the bunch. He said he had aletter for you. But you weren't around at
the time and he stuck itinto his pocket. Then the boches came swinging at us, and in theexcitement I suppose he forgot all about it. Likely enough he has itwith him now--that is if the Huns have let him keep it."

  "That must be the explanation," said Frank. "Well, all I can do iswrite to the colonel's brother and ask him to send me a duplicate ofthe letter. Poor Tom! I'd give all the letters in the world to havehim safe with us just now."

  "Same here," said Billy and Bart in chorus.

  "I guess the Huns have got him," said Frank gloomily. "He isn't amongthe dead or wounded as far as we've been able to find. But I'll betthey thought they had hold of a wildcat when they nabbed him."

  "Trust Tom for that," said Bart. "He was a terror when he had hisblood up. He must have got knocked on the head, or they wouldn't havetaken him alive."

  "Perhaps he'd have been luckier if he had been killed," said Billysadly. "From all I hear there are plenty of prisoners in German campswho would welcome death."

  "It makes me grit my teeth to think of the humane way we treat the menwe capture, and then compare it with the way the Huns treat oursoldiers," said Frank bitterly. "Look at the German prisoners we sawworking on the roads that time we went away on furlough. Plenty offood, kind treatment, good beds. Why, lots of those fellows are livingbetter than they ever did in their own country. They're getting fatwith good living."

  "Nothing like that in German prison camps," growled Bart. "Horriblefood, mouldy crusts, rotten meat, and not enough of that to keep bodyand soul together. In a few months the men are little more thanskeletons. They work them sixteen or eighteen hours a day in all kindsof weather. They set dogs on them and prod them with bayonets. Didyou read of the forty they tortured to death by swinging them by theirbound arms for hours at a time in freezing weather?"

  "It's no mistake to call the Germans Huns," snapped Billy, clenchinghis fists.

  "No," agreed Frank, "but it's rough on the Huns."