Kitabı oku: «Polly's Southern Cruise», sayfa 9
CHAPTER XI – MEETING OLD FRIENDS IN PANAMA
After leaving Jamaica the Captain asked for instructions as to the chosen direction and the next stopping place.
“Well, after once seeing Jamaica, I suppose we have virtually seen every other island in the Caribbean Group. The flowers, the climate, the natives, even the employments are all similar if not exactly alike. There is but one point of interest that is not common to them all, and that is the volcano of Mont Pelée on Martinique.
“But volcanoes are no curiosity to Polly because she lives in the crater of one of the largest extinct volcanoes in the Rockies, so there is no call for the White Crest to stop at Martinique to show her Mont Pelée,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“Why not sail along past the different islands of the archipelago and have a good look at them from our comfortable deck chairs,” suggested Mrs. Courtney.
This proposition was received with approval and the Captain was advised to steer a course as close as practical to the coral formations, and, those islands of volcanic structure, and permit the tourists to see the Windward Islands without troubling to go ashore.
Hence the yacht, in its cruise, sailed past Porto Rico, and the long string of tiny isles connecting that important island with Barbados and Trinidad. St. Lucia, Dominica, and Martinique were left behind, and then the Captain changed his course to a westward direction.
Leaving Venezuela to the southward he sped on for the Canal Zone. The plan originally made in New York would then be followed as closely as possible. At Colon the White Crest would anchor until her passengers had visited all that was to be in that town seen, and then they would go through the great locks of the Canal and eventually reach the Pacific Ocean.
Mr. Dalken and the Captain figured that a week would be ample time in which to visit everything and come out of the Canal to the Colombia shore. But they reckoned without the young folks, as usual.
Soon after the yacht had anchored at Colon, the tourists started to visit the town. They had not gone far before Jack discovered there would be a great baseball match at the public park between the United States army side and the Colon players. His eye caught the names of two members of the regiment stationed at Panama, and he turned to show them to Ray.
“Could it possibly be Bill Ainslee and Bob Madden of the A. E. F. in France?”
“I did hear something about Bill remaining with the regulars to try South America. We can’t lose out by introducing ourselves, anyway, and ten to one the boys will turn out to be our old Buddies,” said Ray.
The proposition was made and accepted to go and see the ball game late that afternoon; the girls felt as much interest in knowing whether or not the two soldiers at Panama were the ones Jack believed them to be.
No sooner was the Dalken party seated in the Grand Stand, than Jack and Ray hurried away. They were gone a long time, and the eager spectators on the bleachers as well as those in the Grand Stand, had to call and show impatience at the delay of the opening of the game before the teams came out.
Jack and Ray returned to their friends on the Grand Stand. One glance at their smiling faces told the girls that they had found pals. Jack was bubbling over with pleasure at the meeting and the plans they had made for a good time during the visit at Panama.
“Gee! Bill looks great! He was so white and thin in the trenches over there, but now he has filled out and looks wonderful. I never dreamed he would turn out to be so handsome, did you, Ray?”
“No, but then Bob isn’t far behind in looks. It must be this climate that tans them to such a glorious shade,” said Ray.
“There are other things than tan that this climate does to one,” remarked Mr. Dalken, briefly. The boys laughed and agreed with him.
“For instance, malaria caught while alligator hunting,” said Mrs. Fabian, because she had heard the men discussing the possibility of their tired feeling being the result of the swamp visit.
The game now opened and the girls were all eyes and interest to see the Panama team win, because Jack happened to know two of the players. Whether it was the knowledge that four pretty girls were seated in the Grand Stand watching, or whether it was their usual manner of pitching and batting, the fact remains that Bill and Bob were the champion members of the team that day, and carried away the honors.
After the game ended the two crack players changed their togs and reappeared in uniform. Jack met them and escorted them to meet Mr. Dalken’s party. Then Polly saw that Jack had not exaggerated one bit when he had declared his two friends to be decidedly good looking.
“My! They’re more than that, Poll,” whispered Eleanor, in breathless admiration. “I think Bill is just too dear for anything.”
Ray overheard her remark. He grinned teasingly and said: “It’s the uniform, my dear child! If Bob or Bill wore a bell boy’s uniform, they’d look just as good, but you wouldn’t think so.”
“Pooh! No such thing!” exclaimed Eleanor, shrugging her pretty shoulders at Ray.
“Well, here is Jack and here am I, and I’m sure we are not bad looking, yet you never said you thought me ‘too dear for anything,’” complained Ray.
“How could I speak an untruth?” retorted Eleanor, laughing.
“All right for you! I’ll spy upon you after this and when I find you enjoying a tête-à-tête with a ‘dear for anything boy’ I’ll spoil it – see if I don’t!” Ray threatened but the girls knew he cared not a fig whether they thought him handsome or not. He was all for a good time and that was the end of his ambitions.
“Ray, you don’t stand a ghost of a show in the running with Bill or Bob,” declared Jack. “Bill with his French Medal and Bob with his Decoration for Bravery simply put us out of sight when the girls are on hand to offer adulation at the shrines of these heroes.”
“Oh, Jack! Tell us – are the two baseball players great heroes of the late war?” exclaimed Mrs. Courtney, eagerly.
“There now! Didn’t I tell you so!” laughed Jack, winking at his chum. “Even the adult admirers forget we are on earth the moment one mentions Bill and Bob.”
“Please, oh, please, Jack, tell us the story of, what they did over there,” beseeched Polly.
“If I were to tell you that tale I’d spoil it in the telling. Better ask Bill and Bob to tell their own thrillers, – if you really want to hear something that will compare favorably with those hair-raising experiences on Grizzly Slide,” replied Jack, earnestly.
During this little side-gossip the two victors in the recent contest with the Colon players, were engaged in talking to Mr. Dalken. Now they turned and addressed Jack.
“Mr. Dalken wishes us to dine on the yacht, but we shall have to ask permission to do that. I only wish we had a pull with some one, in order to get several days off. Then we could show you about in great style!” Bill kept his eyes fixed upon Polly as he spoke, and any one might think he was addressing her only. Eleanor smiled, but she had failed to turn and look at Bill’s companion. It was Nancy and Ruth who had to smile now at the attentive manner in which Bob stared at pretty Eleanor, totally oblivious of the other girls in the party.
“Oh, Mr. Ainslee, Dalky here is the professional wire-puller of North America – didn’t you know that? I’m sure he can find a string that will work for you,” laughed Polly.
“Tell me the names of the officers in your regiment, Ainslee, and let me see if I know them,” added Mr. Dalken.
“There now! Didn’t I tell you he could work it?” laughed Polly, while the other members in the group also laughed at their host’s quick acceptance of the suggestion.
Having mentioned the various officers and spoken of their individual tendencies, Mr. Dalken smiled wisely. “Leave the whole matter to me, boys, and we will win out.”
“Tell us, Dalky! What can you do about tonight?” asked the girls eagerly.
“For to-night, I propose having all the officers and the two heroes of the ball game on the yacht to dinner. They cannot very well say no to Bill and Bob if they accept for themselves, can they?”
“Good gracious, Dalky! If you plan to have a dinner party it is high time we all ran away to prepare for the social event,” declared Mrs. Courtney. This was the first time she had ever used the familiar name the girls had given Mr. Dalken, but it did not escape Polly’s notice. She gave Eleanor a glance, but Eleanor had been too interested in learning the outcome of the proposition made by Mr. Dalken.
“I haven’t the slightest hope that our invitation will be accepted for this evening, as in all probability the officers have made other engagements for dinner. But it paves the way for me to urge them to give Bill and Bob leave of absence for to-night. Then I will invite the men who cannot come to-night, to come as soon as they can make the date. I believe I have a speaking acquaintance with the Colonel and I hope to improve our acquaintance while we stop here – then you girls ought to be able to make the most of this opportunity by winning a few days’ vacation for Bill and Bob.”
“Fine!” exclaimed Eleanor, clapping her hands. “Now you three men hurry away and see the Colonel.”
Bill and Bob looked at Mr. Dalken and, seeing he was willing to accompany them, they politely said good-afternoon to the other members in the party and stood ready to go.
“There may be strength in numbers, and we are glad to go with you,” hinted Jack, linking an arm in that of Ray and stepping up beside the host.
“As far as strength goes I always favor pretty girls for power when one has to use diplomacy and cunning,” laughed Mr. Dalken.
“Not in this case, however,” retorted Bill. “If our Colonel knew the danger we boys were running by volunteering to walk right up before the ammunition of beauty, he’d never let us out of his sight.”
“Ha! Mr. Ainslee discovered other things in France besides medals for bravery!” laughed Mrs. Courtney, shaking a playful finger at him.
“Medals! Who told you anything about medals?” asked Bill, with genuine amazement in his voice.
“A little bird whispered it at my ear,” laughed Mrs. Courtney teasingly.
“I know the bird! We always thought it was a raven over there – from the way he croaked whenever he had to eat army mess,” was the humorous reply from Bill.
Midst the general laugh at Jack’s expense which followed Bill’s speech, the men left and walked in the direction of the waiting automobile which had been placed at the ball-players’ disposal for the day.
Polly turned to her friends and said: “Oh, I’m sure Dalky will succeed in getting them off for a few days. I really believe Dalky can do anything!”
Eleanor glanced at Mrs. Courtney as Polly spoke, and caught a puzzling expression which had flashed over that lady’s face. In a moment, however, she was as inscrutable as ever she cared to appear.
“We may as well go into this shop and have a lemonade while we are waiting for the returns of the election,” suggested Mr. Ashby.
“Do you think it will take the boys very long to find the officer who can permit them to get off tonight?” asked Polly.
“I have an idea that Bill will know exactly where to find his superiors and not more than half an hour should elapse before they will come back,” returned Mr. Ashby, glancing at his watch.
“I was about to say – that we should have gone on to the yacht and dressed for to-night, if they are to be gone as long as that,” ventured Polly.
“I tell you what we might do!” cried Eleanor, plumping her glass upon the marble slab with such emphasis that the lemonade spattered up and over her hands. “Leave Mr. Fabian and Mr. Ashby at this corner so the others can see them upon their return, and we ladies go on to the yacht and touch up for the evening’s fray.”
“That’s just what I was about to say,” added Mrs. Courtney.
“Where’s the fray? You ladies never thought the superior faction of this yachting party worthy of captivation before,” remarked Mr. Fabian cynically, albeit he smiled.
“I should say not! Two old married fogies, two harum-scarum boys, and a grass-widower!” exclaimed Nancy Fabian.
A general laugh rewarded Nancy’s retort, and Mr. Ashby held up both hands in a helpless manner. “Oh, for pity’s sake, go – GO and touch up for the young men, or Fabian and I shall have to crawl under the soda fountain to escape your wit!”
The girls started up at that and the ladies followed laughingly; soon they were out of sight on their way to the White Crest and an elaborate toilette for the dinner party that night.
“Some one ought to let the chef know Dalky expects to bring back guests for dinner,” ventured Polly to Mrs. Courtney.
“I think orders have been given,” replied she in a quiet tone.
“Why! How did Dalky know we expected to meet the boys whom Jack and Ray knew in France?” asked Polly, in astonishment.
“He didn’t. But he did say that he thought it would be very pleasant to have us meet the officers of the Post stationed at the Canal. It was his intention to invite them to dine at their first opportunity. Hence he left orders for the chef to prepare for extra plates every evening while we are here,” explained Mrs. Courtney.
“Oh, that will be fine!” exclaimed Polly, but Eleanor wondered if Mrs. Fabian and Mrs. Ashby, as well as Mrs. Courtney, knew of this arrangement.
Long before the females in the party came from their rooms robed in such becoming gowns as would distract any young man who, because of army discipline, had not had many opportunities to enjoy society, the men came on board and, by the hilarious manner of their conversation, suggested that apparently they had celebrated the victory of the Army baseball players in a social drink of native wine. But this was not the case. Sheer exuberance of spirits, natural not fermented, made the four boys who had known each other in France, bubble over and sparkle with wit and fun.
Mr. Dalken invited Bill and Bob to amuse themselves on deck while he and his male guests retired and dressed for dinner. Hence the two young men were lounging in the great reed chairs when Polly and Eleanor appeared. There was no time for a little flirtation, however, as Mrs. Courtney came out, looking magnificent in an American Beauty georgette gown, with her diamond neck-band and pendant earrings sparkling from throat and ears. Polly gazed in appreciative admiration at the combination of dark wavy hair, high-colored complexion, and brilliant brown eyes, with the rich crimson of the dress and the cold white of the diamonds.
Soon after this the other ladies joined the group on deck and finally the men came forth in their somber black dinner coats and immaculate white collars and cuffs. Jack came puffing and fanning himself with his handkerchief.
“Well, you girls ought to pay us a tribute for willingly going to the torture chair to-night. Stiff collars and heavy cloth coats on a torrid night as this in the Canal Zone!”
“Nobody asked you to!” retorted Eleanor.
“Maybe not, but we knew what we would get if we appeared in the lists, with our friends here in their uniform, and the rest of us in our tropical togs,” returned Jack.
“Oh, then it is mere pride that drove you to the deed?” asked Polly.
“No, it was desperate fear!” exclaimed Ray. “What chance would we stand with a bevy of wonderful orchids and two dazzling hummingbirds – meaning Bill and Bob, of course, – if we looked like sparrows from the city streets?”
Every one laughed. “Orchids are too good to be forgotten,” added Polly; “every time I see an orchid hereafter I shall remember that, for once in my lifetime, I was compared to the rare and beautiful flower.”
“Rare in New York, perhaps, but anything but rare down here!” retorted Jack.
“Oh, pshaw! Why spoil such a lovely compliment with the truth,” remonstrated Mrs. Courtney.
The constant teasing and darts of wit between Jack and Ray on the one side and Polly and Eleanor on the other, had been one source of amusement and perpetual fun for the tourists in Mr. Dalken’s party, and now that Bill and Bob had joined the others on deck that night, the quick repartee seemed tossed back and forth like a tennis ball between clever players.
A man servant now came over to announce dinner, and then, for the first time, Polly realized that the officers who were to be invited to dinner had not appeared.
“Where is the Colonel, Dalky?” asked she, wonderingly.
“Couldn’t find him anywhere, but I secured the acceptance of the other officers for dinner to-morrow night,” explained he.
“You did more than that, Dalky!” declared Jack, with a delighted glance at Bill and Bob. “You got the boys three days’ leave while we are stationed here.”
“Oh, really! Goody, goody!” cried several young voices in a chorus of joy.
“And an invitation for all to attend the usual weekly hop to-morrow night, but I can’t see for the life of me how any one can dance with the thermometer pushing the top of the mercury out of the tube,” grumbled Jack.
“Listen to him! Any one would think he isn’t the maddest one of the group when dancing is to be had!” laughed Mr. Dalken.
After finishing the first course, the host turned to his two new guests and said: “We are on the griddle for the tale of your experiences in France, boys. I know the girls have had difficulty in curbing their feminine curiosity to hear of your exploits.”
Both young men flushed, but Bob managed to say: “Bill, here, is the crack story-teller. I always take a back seat when he is on hand to do the honors for both.”
Therefore Bill was deluged with demands for the story, and having cleared his throat in a self-conscious way, he began.
But his preparations were ruined at that moment, when the Belgian lad on the yacht, now unexpectedly introduced a diversion. He had approached with a laden tray, in order to assist the man servant who had charge of the dinner party, but when he saw the two young men in uniform, he immediately sat the tray upon the floor and ran over to fall upon Bill’s neck.
CHAPTER XII – THE TALE TOLD BY THE BELGIAN
“Agh, mine goot savior! Mine beeg fine frent! I feel so full to choy dat I must cry!” The Belgian acted exactly like an overjoyed mastiff when his master returns from a long absence.
“Why, Johann! This is a surprise,” cried Bob, rising from his chair and joining Bill who still remained pinned in the arms of the happy foreigner.
The others in the party at the dinner table watched with amazement as the little tableaux came to a finish.
“Now that Johann is on the stage, it is most appropriate that he tell the story of our adventures in France. For, be it known to all present, Jo was with us when we first went over with the Canadian boys, and it was Jo’s mother who nursed me after I got away from the Hun temporary prison in Belgium.”
Bill now turned to Johann and made him understand that he was to tell those around the table of the adventures of the three buddies. Mr. Dalken immediately placed a chair for Johann, but that worthy felt he could talk louder and gesticulate better if he stood upon his long staunch legs.
“Agh! Dat wass beeg times – ven we fight so fine for my countree, eh? But now – agh! poor Johann iss no more dan a keetchen boy.”
The great big fellow shook his head despairingly and had it not been that he was deadly in earnest over the complaint, his audience would have laughed at such a dire circumstance as his being a kitchen boy.
“Yah! I tells dat story fine, Beel! Now hear me: Von day in ver early morning, I am sent to find someting to eat fer my mudder and seek seester. I like to belong to a solger’s life but eferyone say I too younk and I got’ta tak care ofer my family. Dis time I hear one farmer got a beeg peeg what he not like the Huns to eat, and he sent me vord to come carry him off and help to keel him.
“Veil, I go so far on one road dat I think pretty soon thet farm he come up and show himself, but I finds onny black smokin’ ruins wherever I go. When I think I been gone far enough on one road I say to myself: ‘Jo, now go dis way – mebbe dat man live down dis way.’ I take him. But I not find a farm – I find plenty Huns what sit and laff and eat pork what dey fry ofer a wood fire.
“I smell dat pork and I know now dey eat dat peeg what my farmer fren send vord to me to come keel for my mudder. So I go right up to dem six fat enemy, and I speak right out in him face and tell him what I feel. Mebbe dey don’t laff so much at me dat one man he say: ‘Ketch him and slit his gullet. He make a fine beeg dinner next time we eat!’
“Veil, and so, anudder Hun come ofer and stick out a hand to hoi’ my arm, but I shake him off like I feel he insult me. Den one fat feller what looks like a boss, calls out for him to put me in the peegpen where two more prisoners they keep.
“Queeck like anything four Huns ketch hold on me and push me in a leetle pen where I see here my good fren’ Beel and my nudder fine fren’ Bob. We tree mus’ live in a peeg pen all night, and nex’ day dose fat enemy tink to take us to a prison in heem own countree. But I tink difrunt.
“I say to Beel here, ‘Six Huns, tree white man. Six what so fat dey no jump, and tree of us what lean like famine.’ But we got good arm, and we stay in dat peeg pen all night and fix up sometings what make our enemy fall down er run like nudding.
“All night we vork and pull old wood from dat peeg pen and viles our enemy sleep we fix up our cloobs. I mix oop so much peeg-mud in big cannon balls like anyt’ing, and Beel he laffs so much he falls down. Bob here he not laff so much but he grin all over cause we got such a fine way to shoot dem enemy and run away.
“Veil, Beel say dis Hun bunch what he call foratch scouts – dem what should go out and bring in eat stuff. But dis crowd sit and eat what dey find, and so mebbe dey got’ta go back in the morning. Anyway, I hear the boss say late dat night, ‘You two go back and report in the mornin’ – no food yet. We four go on and keep huntin’ for more. See!’
“Yes, two men see, and I see, too! Dat’s ven I tell my plans and we vork hard all night.
“Pretty soon, when daylight comes ofer the sky, two men hurry off, and leaves four enemy to me. I got efery plan fixt so I tel Beel and Bob to be retty to hit dem cloobs hard, soon as I fire my soft mud-balls right in dem beeg fat faces of dem Chermans. Den I fixes plenty soft – ah, so soft – peeg-pen dirt-balls on my left arm, and I comes out sofly to where the Boss rolls on the grass asleep, and I stuff most his face and his mout’ all full of peeg-mud. Same time I fire mud-bullets all in the face of dem udder tree solgers, whiles Beel and Bob come right off me and whack! Bang! down coom dem peeg cloobs on top off dose Hun’s heads. One, two, fall down on the ground, and the Boss he got what Beel calls bracelets put on his hands, queeck. Bob he find dem right by the side of dat Boss, so he use ’em right!
“Veil, one man what stands oop, and dat Boss, we mek to walk queeck – oh so queeck – for the army what sits off away from the Hun side. And pooty soon, we march ofer No Man lant and Beel yell like he was mad. Eferybody mek such a beeg time ofer me, and Beel and Bob say I must go to tell the Capataine all about dem peeg mud-shots. So we go and Capataine laff, oh he laff, and he say: ‘Give Johann all the food he can take to his family.’
“But I say: ‘Agh, no, Mr. Capataine! All dem enemy now like to ketch Jo and find out how to mek peeg cannons, and I nefer again see my seester and mudder. Mebbe I like much better to dress oop like my seester and ride back to home in a peasant cart, yes?’
“Efery body laff again and say yes. So I find Beel here to go to get me a gurl’s dress, and I put him on. But Jo not so beeg den as now, and dat dress go on pooty goot, eh, Beel?”
Thus appealed to Bill agreed, but the hardly controlled laughter of the audience now pealed forth and the narrator could not be heard for a few moments. Then he resumed his tale.
“All right! Beel and Bob find me a seat in a Belgium peasant cart what drivin’ back home, and I sit like a nice beeg gurl on a seat and call her mudder. I find goot luck dat time, cause no Hun stop me and no one take the beeg dinner what Capataine pack for my family.
“Mebbe my mudder not cry tears for joy when I come in all dressed oop like my seester, and my seester she laff and say: ‘Now I got a fine new dress to wear.’
“Veil, I tell my mudder I got’ta go join Beel’s friend’s in dis fight. I find I beeg enuff to take prisoner by my enemy, so I beeg enuff to fight, too! My mudder cry, and my seester say. ‘Oh, vere shall we find help?’ En I say: ‘Leaf this old house ’cause soon it make fire for my enemy to cook peegs, and you run so fast what you can to my onkel’s in Bruges.’ So dey run an’ I coom back to fight wid Beel. And so dat’s all.”
As he concluded his story, Johann instantly stooped and took the abandoned tray. He quickly transferred its contents to the table and turned to hurry back to the kitchen without waiting for applause from his interested audience. At the same moment the Oriental chef came down the deck and brandished a long wooden spoon. Johann saw and grinned. He half turned to Mr. Dalken and said in a most laughable way: “My enemy cooms!”
Then he scuttled away down the other side of the craft, and the chef stood and shook an angry fist in his direction. But the Oriental heard the loud laughter from those seated at table, and saw their pleased faces and he surmised that Johann must have been the cause of it. Hence he hurried back to his culinary heaven to question the servant and learn what had so amused the guests.
“Jo hasn’t told half the story,” declared Bob, as the merry laughter subsided.
“No, he skipped anything that went to tell you what a loyal man he was, and how he fought for country as well as for us, his friends.” Bill seemed to go back and mentally review the incidents.
“Then it is up to you to tell us, Bill,” said Jack.
“Perhaps we have a hero with us who should have had a decoration. I believe in giving honor where honor is due, and Jo shall have everything that’s coming to him,” said Mr. Dalken.
“Well, the Croix de Guerre which I wear belongs to Jo, according to all rules of the game, but it fell to my lot to get it, and to Jo’s lot to get the shell in his leg,” said Bill. This caused a demand for the story, and Bill began.
“Bob and I volunteered at midnight to hunt on No Man’s Land for the officer who had important orders in the breast pocket of his uniform. He went out that afternoon with his men but was reported missing upon our return. No one saw him fall, nor had he been seen captured by the enemy with whom we had a mix-up. This was soon after Jo returned from home to link his future with that of the Canadian Troops.
“We managed to crawl unseen all over the same ground where we had the skirmish late that afternoon, but not a sign of the lieutenant could we see. Finally Bob lifted his head and nodded at what had seemed to me to be a heap of debris.
“‘It’s a ruin,’ whispered Bob. ‘I don’t remember seeing it there this evening.’
“‘You didn’t, Bob. It was a little barn when last we came out here,’ replied I.
“‘Then a shell must have smashed it since. Could the Left, have been near it, do you think?’ Bob’s tone suggested possibilities, so I silently agreed to follow him.
“We crept along, slowly and carefully, fearful of a surprise at any moment, for the enemy were out that night as well as others, and they might be seeking in this ruin, exactly as we purposed to seek for missing pals.
“We reached the heap of stones and plaster without interruption and then we felt we could breathe better. The barn fell so that some of the timbers caught in the ends of others and stuck up after the manner of loose jack straws. Under this small hollow pyramid was enough shelter for both of us, and we crept there hoping to hide and plan our return.
“To my horror I came in contact with a cold face, and after discreetly feeling over the body I found it to be a Hun. We heaved a sigh of relief to find it was not our Lefty. But close upon that relief came a shock: A groan from under the timbers.
“‘Look out for a surprise!’ warned Bob, and I nodded.
“But we had no time to lose in wariness, for immediately after the moan we heard a German cursing fluently. The voice was not the same. I soon made my way into the impromptu cave and there discovered our officer, pinned down by a timber and quite unconscious. It was his moan we had heard. Almost within arm’s reach of him, the Hun soldier was pinned down also, but he could not move his body even though he was mad to drive his spike into our Lefty’s unconscious heart.
“In a few shakes we had the German tied securely and the timbers lifted from our officer. Then we planned to return with the injured man upon our backs. The enemy we were hoping to drive before us into camp, but he objected so strenuously that we feared detection if we insisted. It was more important to get the officer back and leave the Hun. Yet we did not care to murder him in cold blood, and he refused to go quietly. We decided to bang him over the head with one of the logs, and when senseless we could drag him after us. Even this seemed unnecessary risk at the time, so we made him understand that we would shoot him down in his track if he refused to creep ahead of us as commanded. He knew that he ran the danger of fire from both sides should we be discovered on No Man’s Land, yet he was daring enough the moment we had started on our way to try and expose us to that double fire. In fact, he figured that there would be but one German less if all were killed, but there would be three men of his enemy’s side lost. But he failed in his little plot.
“We had not advanced ten feet, I was carrying the officer upon my back as I managed to worm my way after Bob, when we heard a small unit of Germans coming from the other direction. They, too, were creeping, creeping stealthily, in order to find their lost companions. Fortunately, we had gagged the Hun who went in advance of me, and he could not shout, but he could kick up such a racket on the ground with his feet that it must attract attention in the stillness of the night.
