Part 22 (2/2)

”Well, you're doing your share, sir!” commented Roger.

”It is nothing! If I could only do a thousand times as much!” and the man who had earned such an enviable rating shook his head. ”There are so many of the Huns! So many! But we shall never give up! Never!” and he drew himself up determinedly.

”But, my friends, we must not linger here,” he went on. ”The battle will soon start again, and the fortunes of war may turn against us. We should go and telephone for petrol, that we may take our machines back behind the lines, to safety.”

”Yes, we'll have to do that,” declared one of the Twinkle Twins. ”See you again, boys!” and with waves of their hands they set off to find the nearest telephone, that they might send word of their plight to their hangars.

”Well, good luck!” called Jimmy and his chums to the brave Frenchman and his no less brave cousins.

”That was some coincidence--that the Twinkles and their cousin Emile should be fighting for us and we not know it,” commented Roger, as the five Khaki Boys trudged back. ”I should say so,” agreed Bob. ”Say, we'd better hurry!” he went on. ”Sounds as if they were starting the game once more!”

The noise of the big and little guns was beginning again, and hardly had our heroes reached their command in the woods than the order came to go forward.

With yells of savage delight it was received, and then there came a desperate dash that carried Jimmy and his friends, as well as those with him, well up toward the German lines.

Fierce and b.l.o.o.d.y was the fighting, and there was death in it, too, for many. But ever did the Americans press on, slowly but steadily driving back the Germans. On all sides great guns roared, and ears were nearly split with the riot of sound.

When night came it found our five Brothers occupying some of the trenches so long held by the Huns, who had been driven out. It was the start of the movement that was to clean the Boches from France.

Tired, weary, blood-stained, dirty, hungry and thirsty--that was the condition of all the fighters. And yet they would be ready to do it all over again the next day, after a little rest and food. And food they had, though not of the best.

”Sergeant Barlow and Corporal Dalton take listening post number seven,” the sergeant-major ordered two of the Brothers, after what pa.s.sed for supper. ”Be on the alert. The Germans will very likely try a counter-attack.”

Bob and Roger prepared for their dismal night trick. Franz and Iggy were sent to another part of the line, and Jimmy was on duty in the dugout, a.s.sisting the telephone operator.

The night settled down. It was comparatively quiet now in the trenches, in front of which barbed-wire entanglements had been hastily put up. The Germans had done the same, and between the stretches of wire another No Man's Land had been established.

Worn and weary, Roger and Bob waited for what they feared might happen. But as the hours pa.s.sed, and there was no sign nor movement from the German lines, they began to think there would be no fighting.

Suddenly, however, the blackness of the night was broken by the red glare of a rocket.

”What's that?” cried Bob.

”Signal of some sort,” replied Roger. ”Guess we'd better get on our feet. The attack may be coming.”

”Shall we go back and report this?”

”No, they must have seen it as soon as we did. We're only to report if we see any of the enemy approaching this post.”

They waited. Another rocket--a green one this time--soared aloft. And then with a suddenness that was startling, a terrific firing broke out from the German lines. ”Here it comes--the counter-attack!” cried Bob.

As he spoke he and his companion saw a dark, ma.s.sed body moving toward them.

”Come on!” cried Bob. ”We've got to report this!”

But before they had time to run back more than a few paces they were surrounded by an attacking party of Germans. On either side of Bob and Roger there was fierce fighting now going on. The two lads who had been on duty in the listening post felt themselves caught and their rifles wrested away before they had a chance to use them, and then they were dragged over toward the German trenches.

”What's it all mean?” gasped Bob.

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