Part 21 (1/2)

”Either that or our aviators have driven them off as they did this afternoon,” returned Bart.

”Let's go back to the mill,” Tom suggested. ”There'll be plenty of ventilation in the old crib to-night.”

”And my cot's right beneath that hole in the roof,” grumbled Bart.

”Safest place in the whole shebang,” comforted Frank. ”Lightning never strikes twice in the same spot.”

”Yes, but suppose it rains,” grouched Bart.

”Aw, it's good for the complexion,” grinned Tom. ”Anyway, you're soaked through now, aren't you? Some fellows are never satisfied.”

”Ah, stop fighting!” said Frank. ”It couldn't rain if it wanted to with a moon like that.”

Once back in the mill, the army boys set about repairing the havoc wrought by the bomb.

Billy picked up the banjo, patted it lovingly and was relieved to find that his favorite instrument had come through the German attack uninjured.

”Glad you're all right, old girl,” he said, running his fingers over the strings. ”But I guess you're through for one night.”

”Yes,” chuckled Tom, as he started to unlace his shoes. ”The Huns have given us their idea of a moonlight serenade!”

CHAPTER XIX

NICK RABIG UNDER ARREST

It might have been expected that a sleepless night would have followed the raid. But the young Americans were far too healthy and their nerves were already becoming too well steeled to let the Germans, like Macbeth, ”murder sleep.” Their eyes closed almost as soon as their heads touched the pillows, not to open again until reveille sounded the next morning.

They were a little more subdued than usual, however, as they dressed, for there was poor Fred's empty cot and some dark red blotches on the floor to remind them of their comrade's plight and their own narrow escape.

”I wonder how Fred's getting along,” said Tom, voicing the general thought.

”All right, I hope,” returned Frank. ”It will make him sore to be cooped up now with a broken leg, just when the boys are putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches on their training.”

They were relieved to find on inquiry after breakfast, that Fred was doing finely, that the wound in his head was negligible and that the break in his leg was a simple fracture so that in six weeks he would probably be as well as ever.

”The old scout will have one satisfaction, anyway,” said Bart. ”He's the first one in our bunch who has actually shed his blood for Uncle Sam.”

”Gee, he beat us to it,” agreed Tom. ”But don't worry, we'll have plenty of chances later on.”

In the interval before drill, they strolled about the old mill, seeking traces of the visitation of the night before. These were easily visible for there were immense sh.e.l.l holes where the bombs had buried themselves in the earth.

They found one of the missiles that had not exploded. Bart was about to pick it up when Frank shouted a warning.

”Nix on that funny business!” he cried. ”You never can tell when those fellows will start working.”

”Yes,” added Bart. ”Those fingers of yours will come in handy later on. You'll need them in your business.”

”Yes,” remarked their corporal, Wilson, who sauntered up to them at the moment. ”For all we know that thing may have been fixed so that it wouldn't explode when it struck the ground but would the minute somebody picked it up and commenced fooling with it. The only safe way is to give them all a wide berth.