The Khaki Boys over the Top Part 16

"Why doesn't he come with us, toward the American lines?" asked Roger.

"Why does he want to go over where the Huns are? This gets me. It looks as if he was----"

He did not finish the sentence. But his chums knew what he had started to say. Only it seemed a terrible suspicion to which to give voice, against the man who had saved their lives. Still, with all that, the khaki boys could not help thinking in their hearts that there was something wrong.

"Maybe he's going over there to scout around and see if that's a better way for us to get back to our quarters," suggested Bob.

Jimmy shook his head. Then he remarked slowly:

"Come on! Let's see about food and water and then well hike. All our stuff--guns, rations and everything--has gone up in the fire."

"I haf yet two off dem handle chranades," spoke up Iggy, meaning, thereby the serrated Mills bombs which were used in the trench raids.

"Hold on to them!" advised Jimmy. "We'll need them if the Huns see us, and they're very likely to."

They crawled to the end of the mill flume. The fire was now some distance from this wooden water carrier. There, in a canvas bag which the boys recognized as one of the variety carried by the Americans, they found a goodly stock of provisions.

"They'll last us a day, anyhow," said Jimmy, making an inspection.

"And by that time we may be back in our lines."

"Or in the Germans'," voiced Bob.

"There's a big battle going on all around us, but we seem to be in the center of a calm area," said Roger. "The question is how to find our way out."

"Well, let's go!" suddenly exclaimed Jimmy. "Well only get lame and stiff staying here, I feel as if I'd been rolled down hill in a spiked barrel."

Not one of the five Brothers but what had several wounds. But, fortunately, they were superficial ones. They were sore and bruised from being knocked down by the concussion, and by being precipitated into the cellar by the collapse of the mill. But they were still able to travel; though, as Jimmy said, if they remained inactive their muscles and joints would stiffen.

"Hike!" cried Bob, and they set off in the direction indicated by Captain d.i.c.kerson--that strange man who had seemed so cold and reserved, and who had made so light of what he had done in saving the lives of the Khaki Boys.

"I wonder if we'll ever see him again," mused Franz, as they marched away from the burning mill.

"Somehow I have a feeling that we will," said Jimmy. And afterward he was to recall those words under strange circ.u.mstances.

And so they began what was destined to be a most perilous journey to get back to their own lines.

CHAPTER XIV

THE SENTRY

"Now, boys," said Sergeant Jimmy, when they had dipped down into a hollow among the many hills in the big valley, "we've got to have some plan of action, and some system to this. We've got to have a leader, too. Military rule must prevail, even among friends."

"You act as leader!" suggested Bob Dalton.

"That's right!" chimed in all the others.

"We'll make you captain, for the time being," added Roger.

"Thank you for the honor," said Jimmy with a smile. "I'll wait, I guess, until my promotion comes regularly. But if you really want me to take the lead and--"

"Of course we want you!" exclaimed Franz, while Iggy added:

"Besser as we should have him for to leader us dan a Germans."

"Well, I'm glad you think that much of me!" laughed Jimmy. "Now then, if I'm to lead I'll have to give orders. And do you all agree to obey them--at least if they don't seem against your better judgment?"

"We'll obey 'em anyhow," said Roger, and the others nodded a.s.sent.

"All right," went on Jimmy. "The first thing to do is to calculate how long our rations will last. There's enough for one day if we each took about all we wanted. Or there's enough for two days, or more, if we stint ourselves."

"Then we'll go on a diet!" declared Bob. "There's no telling how long we may be in getting back to our lines, and while we might be able to find something to eat along the way, it won't do to take chances."

"I thought you'd look at it that way," said Jimmy. "As for water, it rains so infernally often in this country that I imagine we shan't be thirsty. But we'll always carry the canteen full. Now, then, I'll appoint Roger as Secretary of the Interior--that is, I'll make him the cook and give him charge of the rations," and Jimmy handed the canvas bag of food over to his chum.

"There isn't anything to cook," said Roger, as he looked in the bag.

"It's all emergency ration stuff."

"So much the easier for you," declared Jimmy. "Now that's settled, the next thing to decide is how to get to our lines."

"Keep right on going the way Captain d.i.c.kerson told us," suggested Bob.

"That's what I want to consider," Jimmy went on. "Do you all think that is the wisest course to follow?"

"Why in the world not?" asked Franz, in some amazement. "Didn't he tell us to go south, and don't we pretty well know that in that direction would be the most logical place for our troops to be?"

"I grant that," replied Jimmy. "But if our lines are to the south, why did Captain d.i.c.kerson, who appears to be an American officer, go to the north! Why didn't he come with us?"

"That's starting the whole question over again," declared Bob. "I say let's take a chance and go south. The captain wouldn't send us wrong after he went to all that trouble to save us alive."

"Perhaps you're right," admitted Jimmy. "Well, though I'm leader I'm willing to abide by the majority rule. Since you all want to go to the south, the south it shall be."

"Don't you think that's the best way?" asked Roger.

"Well, it's as good, perhaps, as any other," was the reply. "I think we're pretty well surrounded by Germans, and it doesn't really make much difference which way we go. So the south is as good as any."

"Then lead on!" exclaimed Bob.

"Yes--hike!" added Roger.

And once more they started off.

Their way lay through what had once been a beautiful farming country.

In places, still, there were fields under cultivation--that is, they had been cultivated up to within a few weeks. But the tide of battle had swept over the region and the French farmers had either been killed or had left their homesteads. Still, where the fields had not been torn up by sh.e.l.l fire, grains were growing, and there were even orchards here and there.

But, as far as the soldier boys could see, there was no sign of life.

Even the birds seemed to have flown away. There were no chickens, no dogs, no cattle nor horses--in fact none of the usual farm scenes.