Army Boys in the French Trenches

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"That stew still sticks in Billy's crop," laughed Frank.

"I only wish it did," mourned Billy. "But it never got that far."

"Well, just remember, fellows, that we're on rations now," warned Frank
as he doled out a little portion to each from the common stock they had
pooled together. "We've got to make this last as long as we can. If we
feel hungry when we get through we'll just have to tighten our belts and
let it go at that."

They ate sparingly, but, although they were all thirsty, especially
after the heat and excitement of the fighting, it was a long time before
they could bring themselves to drink from the pool in the corner of the
cellar. They finally had to come to it, however, though they tried to
make it less repugnant by filtering it through the only clean
handkerchief they could muster among them.

The time dragged on interminably in their narrow quarters. They tried to
sleep, but though they were very tired after their strenuous day, the
novelty and discomfort of their position kept them on edge.

The daylight finally vanished from the little opening in the floor above
and the darkness became absolute. They had matches in their kits, but
they feared to use them lest some prowling sentry might see the light
through some rift in the masonry.

The roar of the heavy artillery had died down, though the guns still
gave out an occasional challenge. The fighting for the day was evidently
at an end. But there had been no clash in the streets of the ruined town
to betoken the arrival of the Allied forces. However they might have
fared in other parts of the battlefield, the town itself had not been
wrested from the Germans. In all probability the boys were still in the
midst of their enemies.

"Another night as well as a day to stay in this shebang," remarked Tom
when the hope of immediate rescue had failed them.

"Oh, well, to-morrow's a new day," said Frank. "A lot may happen between
now and to-morrow night. Our grub will hold out till then anyway, and if
nothing better turns up we'll make a dash and try to reach our lines."

He had scarcely stopped speaking when there was a loud clattering in the
street as though a cavalry troop were passing through.

"Perhaps those are our men now!" exclaimed Billy jubilantly.

"Perhaps," assented Frank. "And they seem to be coming this way."

The pace of the horses died down as they neared the house, and they
finally stopped just before it. The boys could hear the troopers
dismount and a moment later they heard footsteps on the floor above.

They listened intently. Would the first words they heard be English or
German? If the first it would mean a boisterous shout to the men above
and a hasty and joyful scramble out of their prison. If the second, it
would mean that they were in imminent danger of capture or death.

A light filtered down through the hole where the stovepipe had been.
Somebody above had struck a match. But he had evidently burned his
fingers as he did so, for the light went out and there was an impatient
exclamation.

"_Donnerwetter_!"

Just one word, but it made the hearts of the listening boys go down into
their boots.

For it was a German who just then struck a second match and lighted a
candle, and it was a German cavalry troop whose horses stood before the
door.

But for what purpose had they entered the house? Were they in search of
the boys? Had any one seen them entering the house and given
information?

"Be ready, fellows," whispered Frank. "It looks as if we were in for a
scrap."

They clutched their rifles firmly to be ready for whatever might happen.

But it was not long before they realized that this sudden irruption had
nothing to do with them. What seemed to be a bench or a table was
dragged across the floor and one or more candles placed upon it. There
seemed to be half a dozen or more officers in the room, and they were
soon engaged in an earnest conversation.

"I never thought much of the German language," whispered Bart to Billy,
"but I'd give a farm to understand it now."

"If Frank only knew German as well as he does French," responded Billy,
"we might pick up something that our officers would give a lot to know."

For perhaps half an hour the raucous tones above continued. The debate
was at times an angry one and was punctuated by the sound of fists
brought heavily down on a table. Just after one of these, the stovepipe
hole was dimmed by something that shut off the light from the room
above. It floated down with a slight rustle and the boys could see that
it was a paper of some kind.

In an instant Frank had crept across and grabbed the paper, thrusting it
into the bosom of his shirt. Then he moved swiftly back to the shelter
of the barricade.

"That was taking a chance, old boy," whispered Bart, as his friend
resumed his place among them. "If you'd knocked against anything and the
Huns had heard you, they'd have been down here in a jiffy."

"I suppose it was a little risky," returned Frank, "but we've got to
take risks sometimes, and it struck me that there might be something in
that paper that our officers would like to know."

Just then Billy, in trying to get in a less cramped position, knocked
against one of the rifles that had been stood in a corner. It fell
against one of the barrels with a clatter that in the confined place and
the tense state of the boys' nerves sounded to them like thunder.

Frank grabbed it before it could fall on the cellar floor, but it seemed
as though the mischief must have been done, and their hearts were in
their mouths as they listened for anything that might indicate that the
sound had been heard on the floor above.

But the debate had reached a lively stage just at that moment, and the
incident attracted no attention, so that after two minutes more of
strained listening the boys were assured that they had come off scot
free from what might have been a disaster.

"This is sure no place for a man with heart disease," murmured Tom, and
his comrades unanimously agreed with him.

The conference in the room above had come to an end, as was shown by the
shuffling of feet as the men rose from the table. There was a sound as
of a sheaf of papers being hastily gathered together. But there was no
outcry to indicate that any one of them was missing, and the boys drew a
long breath and relaxed their grasp on their rifles. There would be no
search, and for the moment they were safe.

The lights above were extinguished and the party went out. The horses
clattered away, and once more the house and the town were as still as
the grave.

"So near and yet so far," murmured Frank, when he was sure that the last
of the unwelcome visitors had departed.

"That was what you might call too close for comfort," grinned Billy.

"They wouldn't have done a thing to us if they had nabbed us," declared
Bart. "We wouldn't have had a Chinaman's chance. No prison camp for
ours! They'd have shot us down like dogs! They'd have reasoned that we
had heard their military plans, and that would have been all the excuse
they wanted."

"Not that they would care whether they had the excuse or not," said
Billy. "The mere fact that a German wants to do anything makes it all
right to do it."

"How they'd froth at the mouth if they knew Frank had that paper,"
remarked Tom. "I wonder what it is."

"It has a seal on it and it feels as if it were heavy and official,"
replied Frank. "I don't want to strike a match now, but I'll take a
squint at it when daylight comes. Probably it's in German, and if it is
I can't read it. But they'll read it at headquarters all right, and it
may queer some of Heinie's plans."

They conversed in whispers a little while longer, and then made ready to
go to sleep. Their preparations were not extensive, and consisted
chiefly in finding a place where no sharp edge of stone bored into the
small of their backs. But they were too tired to be critical, and after
putting away the food in a corner and arranging to stand watch turn and
turn about they soon forgot their troubles in sleep.

When they awoke the light shining through the hole in the floor told
them that it was day.

"Time you fellows opened your eyes," remarked Tom, who had been standing
the last watch. "If you hadn't I'd have booted you awake anyway, for you
were snoring loud enough to bring the whole German army down on you."

"I'd hate to call you an out and out prevaricator, Tom," remarked Billy,
rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his tumbled hair, "so
I'll simply say that you use the truth with great economy. Suppose you
bring me my breakfast. I think I'll eat it in bed this morning."

He dodged the shoe that Tom threw at his head and rose laughingly to his
feet.

"Mighty bad manners the people have at this hotel," he remarked, "but
since you feel that way about it I'll take my grub any way I can get it.
Haul it out from that corner, Bart, and let's have a hack at it. I'm
hungry enough to eat nails this morning."

Bart needed no second request, for he was quite as hungry as his mates.
But when he picked up the canvas wrapper in which the food had been
stored he dropped it with a startled exclamation.

"What's the matter?" cried Frank.

"Matter enough," replied Bart. "The bag's empty. There isn't a blessed
thing in it."

The others rushed him under the light that came from above and examined
the wrapper with sinking hearts. What Bart had said was true. Not a
crumb was left.

There was no mystery about it. The gnawed and tattered holes in the bag
told their own story. It was summed up in the one word that came from
their lips simultaneously. "Rats!"

Their four-footed enemies had perhaps brought them nearer capture than
their human enemies had been able to do.

CHAPTER XVI

CHASED BY CAVALRY

The four Army boys looked at each other in dismay.

Nothing much worse than this could have befallen them. It brought them
close to the edge of tragedy. They would have to change their plans.
Instead of being free to choose their own time for their attempt to
escape, they were forced to act quickly no matter how much greater the
risk might be. For if they waited until they were weak from hunger they
would be in no condition to make a dash or put up a fight.

Frank as usual was the first to recover his self-possession.

"No use crying over spilt milk, fellows," he said, trying to infuse
cheerfulness into his tone. "We've got to try Billy's recipe and make
lemonade from the lemon that the rats have handed us."

"It's a mighty big lemon," said Tom, "and I don't see much sugar lying
around."

"How could the brutes have got at it without our hearing them, do you
suppose?" questioned Bart.

"That doesn't matter much," replied Billy. "And there's no use holding
post-mortems. The thing is, what are we going to do?"

"We're going to get out of here to-night without fail," said Frank
decidedly. "The moon won't come up till late and if the night is cloudy
it won't show up at all. At any rate we can't stay here. There isn't a
chance on earth of there being anything left in these houses, or we
might take a chance on foraging. The Huns have seen to that. The longer
we stay here the weaker we'll get. We've just got to make a break and
trust our wits and our luck to get back to the lines."

"I guess you're right, old man," agreed Bart. "We'll just move our belts
up a hole and pretend we're not hungry. Tom here's getting too fat
anyway, and it'll do him good to give his stomach a rest. And as for
Billy, he can take a nap and dream of that stew he didn't get."

"There's another thing, too," remarked Frank. "Those rats are likely to
come back to-night for more, and they may have spread the news and bring
a whole rat colony with them. No doubt they're famished since there's
nothing left in the town to eat, and if there are enough of them they
might go for us. Of course we could beat them off, but we'd be apt to
make a lot of noise in doing it, and that might bring the Huns down on
us. There's no use talking, we've got to skip."

They all agreed to this, and they passed the rest of that day as best
they could until the light faded from the hole in the floor and night
settled down in a pall of velvet. They clambered out of their temporary
prison, their hearts beating with high determination.

They ventured out at last into the darkness, slipping along from one
projection of the ruined houses to another, moving as lightly and
stealthily as cats.

To one thing they had made up their minds. There would be no going back
to their old hiding place. That meant either starvation or surrender.
Besides, if they turned back on being discovered, the Germans would know
that they were hiding somewhere in the ruined town and they would not
leave one stone on another until they found them. But if they made a
break for the open country they would have their chance of escaping in
the darkness. On they went like so many spectres, until, on reaching a
shattered doorway, they crept close together for a whispered parley.

"So far so good," murmured Frank.

"Luck's been with us," agreed Bert.

"We can stand a whole lot of luck in this business," whispered Tom.

"It's a long, long way yet to our own lines," said Billy. "We haven't
got more than a couple of blocks away from our old hangout, and there's
no telling how much further it is before we strike the open country."

Just then a stone toppled from a wall and fell with a crash only a few
feet away. In their tense state of alertness the unexpected sound made
them jump.

"Just as well we weren't under that," remarked Frank, with a sigh of
relief.

"Let's hope it won't bring some German sentry along to see what's making
the racket," responded Bart.

"Just what it is doing," whispered Tom, as he heard a step approaching.
"Quick, fellows, get further back and lie down flat."

They almost ceased to breathe as a dim form passed by so close that they
could almost have reached out and touched him. But the dust still rising
from the shattered stone convinced the visitor that nature and not man
was responsible for the disturbance, and, with a grunt of satisfaction
that it was nothing worse, the sentry returned to his former post.

But the promptness with which he had appeared warned the fugitives that
the town, desolate as it was, was still under guard, and they redoubled
their precautions. However dangerous it might be, they must go on. The
moon would rise before long, and they must make the most of the pitchy
darkness that still prevailed.

Listening with all their ears and straining their eyes until they ached,
they made their way through the littered streets until they realized
from their frequent encounters with bush and hedge that they were
getting into the open country.

Huddled close in a thicket, they consulted the radio compass that Frank
drew from his pocket. That gave them the general direction in which they
must go. They knew that in general their course led toward the west,
but, as they could not tell what changes had taken place in the position
of the armies as the result of the two days' fighting, they had no idea
of how long it might take them to reach the American lines.

They got their bearings due west and set off. They were making fair
progress when they were startled by hearing the clatter of hoofs a
little ahead of them.

"Listen!" hissed Bart.

"It's a cavalry troop," whispered Frank, as he flattened himself behind
a bush, an example that was promptly followed by the others.

"Troop!" growled Tom. "It sounds more like a brigade."

"Uhlans, probably," conjectured Billy.

They peered through the bushes at the broad road not more than twenty
feet away.

At that moment the moon showed a slender rim above the horizon and
threaded the darkness with a faint shimmer of light.

Along the road came a force of cavalry. The guttural voices of the
riders told the concealed watchers that they belonged to the enemy. In
the dim light they could see the steam that rose from the horses'
flanks.

Those days had been the first for a long time that cavalry could be used
on the western front. Trench fighting had put that arm of the service
almost wholly out of action. But the fact that the Allies had followed
up their tank attack with cavalry had brought forth a German response of
the same nature.

There was no sign of elation among the riders, and the boys drew
pleasure from that. A dejected air prevailed, as though the Uhlans had
had the worst of it.

"Guess they've had the hot end of the poker," whispered Bart.

"Looks like it," replied Frank.

Something just then frightened one of the horses, and he reared and
plunged into the bushes at the side of the road. The boys had all they
could do to scramble out of reach of the iron-shod hoofs. The rider was
almost unhorsed, but managed to retain his seat and quiet his trembling
mount.

By the time he had done this, the troopers had almost passed. The boys
were rejoicing at this, but their exultation changed to uneasiness when
the soldier who had had so much trouble rode up to an officer and began
to talk volubly, at the same time pointing toward the bushes.

"Here's where I see trouble coming," muttered Tom.

"He's on to us," agreed Bart.

"He must have seen us when we got out of his way," said Frank. "Let's
get out of here, quick."

But this was not to be done so easily, for even as he spoke the officer
rapped out a command and a group of twenty horsemen began to spread out
and surround the place where the Army boys were crouching.

To remain there would be fatal, for it was only a matter of a few
minutes before that ring would close upon them with a grip of iron. At
all hazards they must break through.

"Stick together, fellows," murmured Frank. "Get your rifles ready. We
can't miss at this distance. When I say the word, give them a volley and
make a break for the road. It's our only chance, for they'd surely round
us up in these bushes."

"We're with you, boy," replied Bart, and the little party crouched lower
with their fingers on trigger.

Frank waited until the nearest horsemen were not more than ten feet
away. Then he sprang to his feet with a shout.

"Fire!" he cried, and a stream of flame leaped from the bushes.

Two of the riders threw up their hands and pitched from their saddles. A
third seized with his left hand the rein that dropped from his right.
There was a moment of confusion, and Frank and his comrades took instant
advantage of it.

With a rush they reached the road and tore down it for dear life, while
behind them thundered the Uhlans in hot pursuit!

CHAPTER XVII

THE BROKEN BRIDGE

The Army boys had no idea where the road led to. It might be to the
American lines or to the German lines. But they knew that certain death
was behind them and possible life in front of them, and they ran as
though their feet had wings.

But swift as they were, the horses were of course swifter, and before
long they knew that their pursuers were gaining.

"Throw away your rifles," panted Frank. "We'll still have our knives and
grenades."

They threw the heavy rifles aside, and, relieved of their weight, they
bounded ahead with renewed speed.

For a short time their desperate efforts held their pursuers even, but
soon the gap again began to close.

At a turn of the road they halted, gasping for breath.

"Give them the grenades," ordered Frank, getting his own ready. "They
won't be expecting them and it may upset them. Throw yours at the same
time I do mine."

They waited until the horsemen were within fifty feet. Then four
stalwart arms hurled the grenades against the front ranks.

There was a tremendous explosion as the shells all seemed to go off at
the same instant, and the first rank of horsemen went down in a heap.

Those behind drew their beasts back on their haunches so as not to
override their fellows, and in that moment another volley came among
them with deadly effect.

Without waiting any longer, the boys renewed their flight. They knew
that the Germans would be mad with rage at their check by so small a
force, and they were not foolish enough to believe for a moment that the
chase would be abandoned.

But a new exultation was in their hearts as they ran. They might be
killed, but they would at least have sold their lives dearly. There
would be little that the Uhlans would have to boast of in their story of
that night's work.

Their breath came in short gasps and their laboring lungs felt as though
they were ready to burst. Frank, a little in the van, reached out a
warning hand and they slowed up.

"We'll make faster time if we give ourselves a minute's rest," he
panted. "When we start in again we'll have our second wind. They haven't
got out of that mix-up yet. Besides, they'll come on more cautiously
now. They won't know how many grenades we have left."

"I haven't any," gasped Tom.

Billy was too far gone to speak, but he drew his last grenade from his
sack. Bart and Frank also were down to their last one, for the work on
the previous day had almost used up the stock with which they had
started out. They had a chance for one last throw, and then if it came
to a hand to hand fight they had nothing to rely on but their knives.

They rested for a minute or two, and then again upon the wind came the
sound of hurrying hoofs.

Instinctively the boys reached out and grasped one another's hands.
There was no need for words. They knew what it meant. To some of them
this might prove the last lap of the last race they would ever run.

On came their pursuers, and the boys, summoning up every ounce of
strength they possessed, set out at the pace of hunted deer.

Not two minutes had elapsed before their feet struck the boards of a
bridge. Below they saw the gleam of the moon in the dark water that ran
beneath.

They took heart at the sight and put on a new burst of speed. Who knew
but what the American troops were camped on the further side?

Twenty feet further they stopped abruptly. The bridge was broken. The
boards had been torn up, though the shattered timbers of the sides
projected a few feet further over the current. But fully a hundred feet
of black water stretched between them and the farther shore.

They stopped, panting and perplexed. And just at that moment they heard
the hoofs of horses on the wood of the bridge.

They were trapped. To turn back was certain captivity or death. To
plunge into that black current might also mean death. Their choice was
made on the instant.

"Over we go, boys!" shouted Frank, throwing off his coat. "But we
mustn't waste those last grenades. Let them have them."

They turned and threw, and without waiting to see the result dived
headforemost into the stream. The roar of the explosion was in their
ears as they struck the water.

They were all good swimmers, and when they came to the surface they
found themselves within a few feet of each other.

"To the other bank, fellows!" exclaimed Frank, as he shook the water
from his eyes. "And keep as low in the water as you can. They'll send a
volley after us."

They struck out lustily for the farther shore while, as Frank had
predicted, bullets zipped around them. But in the darkness their foes
could take no aim and they reached the shore unscathed.

The bank was steep, with long reeds growing down to the water's edge.
The fugitives grasped these and rested before they attempted to climb
the bank.

"I'm all in," gasped Tom.

Frank reached out a supporting hand.

"I guess we all are," he replied. "It's lucky this river isn't wider.
But we're safe now."

"I don't know about that," said Bart. "Listen!"

There was a tramp of many feet upon the bank.

"They've heard the shooting," whispered Billy. "If it's our boys we're
all right. If it isn't----"

The sentence was never finished. Above the bank they saw a crowd of
helmeted figures. A light was flashed into their faces, nearly blinding
them, and a hoarse voice cried:

"_Wer da!_"

A score of hands reached down and grasped them. Unarmed, dripping,
utterly exhausted, they found themselves in the hands of the soldiers of
the Kaiser!

CHAPTER XVIII

RESCUE FROM THE SKY

With a file of soldiers on either side of them, the four boys were
marched off to a dugout near at hand. Here a German outpost had been
stationed to watch the river bank. It was not a large command, and the
lieutenant in charge, being unable to speak English and having no
interpreter at hand, after a few brusque attempts to question them gave
it up. Then, after having had them searched, he committed them to the
custody of a non-commissioned officer with directions that they were to
be fed and sent to headquarters in the morning. They ate ravenously,
and, not being permitted to talk to each other, found solace in sorely
needed sleep.

When taken before the German officers, the friends were forced to
undergo a strict and searching examination. Their questioners tried in
every way, with pleadings alternating with threats, to get them to
divulge information that might be useful to them, but in vain. The four
Americans were absolutely uncommunicative, and at last the German who
had been doing most of the questioning was forced to acknowledge defeat.

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