A GLORIOUS VICTORY
"How did he get here?"
"What happened to him?"
"Is he wounded?"
These were some of the questions that were, literally, fired at Jimmy
as he stood over the cot on which reposed the wasted and scarcely
recognizable form of Sergeant Maxwell. Jimmy's chums asked these
questions of him because, I suppose, they thought he ought to know the
answers.
"I don't know any more how poor Max got here, or what happened to him,
than you fellows do," said Jimmy.
"Is he hurt?" asked Bob.
"I'll ask him," said Jimmy. Bending over the form of the sergeant, who
was now tossing restlessly to and fro, Jimmy inquired: "Do you know
us, Max? Are you hurt? What happened to you?" An incoherent murmur was
the only answer.
"He's in a fever," said Roger, as he held his hand against the flushed
face. "He ought to be taken to the hospital!"
"Give him some water," suggested Franz, holding out his full canteen.
Jimmy raised his friend's head and Bob managed to get a little water
between the parched lips.
"Good! Good! I wanted water!" murmured the man somewhat indistinctly.
"I've wanted water a long time."
"Do you know us? I'm Jimmy Blazes, and here's Bob, Roger, Iggy and
Franz," said Jimmy. "Do you know us! Can you tell us where you've been
all this while, and what happened to you!"
"Good water! Good water!" was all the reply that came from poor
Maxwell.
"He's out of his head," said Bob.
"We'd better send a doctor if we can find one, or get him to a
hospital," suggested Roger.
"You go see if you can find any stretcher bearers, or a doctor or
anyone like that," suggested Jimmy to Franz and Iggy. "We'll stay with
him. Or Bob and I will. You'd better go report to the captain where we
are, Roger. He might think we've deserted."
Bob and Jimmy, left with Maxwell, made him as comfortable as they
could, washing his face and giving him more water to drink. But he
answered none of their questions, murmuring only about the cool water.
He was in a delirium of fever.
Of course Jimmy did not ask about the missing money. It would have
been useless at this time. But, naturally, he wondered if the sergeant
knew where it was.
Franz and Iggy came back with a doctor who, after a brief examination,
said the sergeant was suffering from bad treatment and lack of food
and water more than anything else. He did not seem to be wounded, but,
of course, there might be some internal hurt which did not show at the
first examination.
"Hospital's the place for him," decided the doctor. "Ill have him sent
back with the first batch of wounded."
And so poor Maxwell was rescued from the oblivion of "missing," and
again put on his company's rolls. But the mystery about him was not
solved, and over it Jimmy and his chums wondered much.
"Well, things have certainly turned out queerly!" remarked Jimmy, when
he and his chums were back once more in their "holes," eating their
emergency rations, and wondering when the real "chow" would come up.
"To thing of finding Max like that!"
"That place was held by the Germans before we rushed them back,"
declared Bob. "They might have kept him a prisoner."
"That's very possible," admitted Jimmy. "I'd like to know the whole
story, but we'll have to wait."
"And a long time, I'm afraid," added Roger.
"Why, do you think Max will die?" asked Franz.
"No, but this fight has only just started. We've got to go forward,
and land knows when we'll ever get back where we can see Max again."
"Oh, well, it isn't as hopeless as it was at first," remarked Jimmy.
"I'm not worrying about the thousand dollars--only I'd like to know
what he did with it."
As Roger had said, the fighting was not over. Before an order came to
turn the "holes" into trenches, another advance was ordered, so that
the Germans might be driven, if possible, from the vicinity of the
hills dominating the valley in which was located the hut where Maxwell
had been found.
"Forward!" came the battle cry again, and once more our heroes joined
the advance.
This time, however, the fighting was not quite so fierce. The Germans
had had a taste of the kind of medicine dealt out by the Americans, and
the Huns had no liking for it.
True, they did not give up without a struggle, and many a poor lad
went to his death, or came back from the front with a leg or arm
missing, as a result of the renewal of hostilities. But it had to be.
It would not have been safe to allow the Germans to have a chance to
get back the dominating hills won at such cost.
And there the storm of blood and steel was renewed with fiercer
energy, until at last, just as night was settling down, the German
flank was turned, and they began to retreat in what ultimately was a
rout.
"A glorious victory! A glorious victory!" was shouted from all sides
in the American ranks.
It was not the end of the war, by any means, but a dangerous salient
had been wiped out, and the American line was straightened, so that
now the fighting could go along on more even terms.
"Oh, but I am tired!" sighed Jimmy, as he flung himself full length
down on the ground when the signal came to cease firing.
"I'm all in, too," added Bob.
"But we're none of us hurt to any extent," said Franz, binding up a
place on his leg where a bit of shrapnel had grazed him. "Won't even
get a wound stripe for this," he said, grimly.
It was next morning, when the supply wagons had come up with more
substantial food, and hot rations, that the good news circulated
around.
"We're due for a rest billet! Hurray!"
"And then I'll have a chance to see about Sergeant Maxwell!" exclaimed
Jimmy.
That same day, following the one of such fierce fighting, the
battalion in which Jimmy and his chums served was ordered to the rear.
They would have a week's rest before going into the terrible game
again.
Jimmy's first action, once he had been relieved from active duty for
the time being, was to seek out the hospital whither Sergeant Maxwell
had been removed. He went alone, for he did not want to excite the
patient by taking in too many chums, should it prove that the man
who had held the five thousand francs was in a dangerous physical or
mental condition.
But, to Jimmy's relief, the doctor's and nurse's reports were
favorable. It was more a case of exhaustion than anything else, though
the sergeant had been wounded.
"Did he tell where he had been ever since he has been missing?" asked
Jimmy of a hospital attendant before going in himself to see his
friend.
"Well he remembered some of it. It seems he was captured while out
on a listening post one night, and taken away a prisoner. Instead of
sending him to a camp, as the Huns do with most of our poor chaps they
get, the Boches kept the sergeant with them, taking him from place to
place. It was their idea, I believe, to either force him to desert and
join them, or use him as a decoy--or perhaps make him a spy.
"Anyhow they kept him with them, and once he was struck and wounded by
a beast of a German officer. After that they neglected him and he got
terribly run down, though his wound healed. Then, just before the
last big fight--the one you say you were in--the sergeant was held
a prisoner in the hut where you found him. He was in a bad way and I
suppose the Germans thought he'd die when they left him--which they
did when our boys knocked the spots off 'em, if you'll excuse my
slang."
"Oh, I'll excuse it all right!" laughed Jimmy. "It isn't any too
strong."
"Well, I guess you may see the sergeant now," said the orderly. "Only
don't talk to him too much. He doesn't like to dwell on what happened
to him. They must have treated him worse than they would a beast!"
"It's awful!" declared Jimmy. "But they'll be made to pay for it! No,
I won't tax him with any talk of the past. I just want to see if he
knows me and remembers a certain matter."
"Oh, he'll know you all right," returned the orderly. "As a matter of
fact, he has been asking for you."
"That's a good sign!" thought Jimmy.
Sergeant Maxwell held out a wan hand to his friend. "I can't begin to
thank you for what you and the other boys did for me," he said, weakly.
"If you hadn't discovered me in that lonely hut I wouldn't be alive now."
"Oh, maybe someone else would have found you," said Jimmy, cheerfully.
"But we're glad we did."
"I've been wishing you'd come in," went on the sick sergeant. "There's
something that's been worrying me. It's about that five thousand
francs you gave me to keep for you."
"Well, don't worry about it," and Jimmy tried to keep his voice up to
the cheerful mark. "Have you got it?"
"No," said the sergeant, "I haven't. But--"
He paused to take a drink of water, and Jimmy's feelings went down to
about the zero position.
"But I know where it is," added the sergeant.
"I suppose the Germans took it off you."
"Indeed they didn't!" was the rather vigorous answer. "I didn't have
it on me. It's back in the dugout!"
"The dugout!" cried Jimmy, his spirits once more soaring.
"Yes, the one where I was quartered when you gave it to me. I knew we
were in for some hard fighting, so before I went out on listening post
I hid the franc notes in an old tin can and stuck it up under the roof
beams. It's right under where a picture of President Wilson is tacked
up. And if the dugout isn't destroyed the money is there yet."
"Well, the dugout can't be destroyed, for there haven't been any
Germans there in some time," said Jimmy. "And I do hope you're right
about the money being there. Not so much for my sake," he added
quickly, "but because I promised to whack up with my bunkies, and I
want to keep my word."
"Well, you send a message there and see if I'm not right," concluded
Maxwell, and then, being rather weak, he was ordered by the nurse to
take a rest.
Elated, but hardly believing the good news, Jimmy received permission
not only to send a message, but to go back in a motor truck to the
place where the headquarters of the 509th Infantry had been just
before the big advance.
Jimmy did not get back to his chums until late that night, for his
leave covered him up to midnight, and he was not on duty. He found
Iggy, Franz, Bob and Roger in a Y.M.C.A. hut, writing letters, and
from the labor Iggy was undergoing, his tongue sticking out and
following every movement of his pen, it was evident that the Polish
lad was not finding English correspondence any easier as the war
progressed.
"Where have you been, Blazes? Back home?" asked Bob a bit
sarcastically at Jimmy's absence.
"Sort of," was the answer. "That looks like stuff from home; doesn't
it!" and he threw on the table some crumpled and rather stained
thousand franc notes.
"Suffering shrapnel!" cried Bob. "The prize money!"
"Where'd you get it?"
"Did Max have it?"
"How'd you get it away from him?"
"How is he?"
"One at a time, please!" laughed Jimmy. "But first I'll tell you good
news--Max is going to get well," and he related the story he had heard
about the sergeant.
"Well, that's quite a yarn!" exclaimed Roger.
"However, that hasn't anything on what we're going to tell you, Jimmy
Blazes!" cried Bob Dalton excitedly.
"Have we all won the _croix de guerre_?" asked Jimmy, smiling.
"No, but here's a note from the 'spy' we denounced," and Jimmy, as
he accepted a paper Bob held out, wondered at the happy looks on the
faces of his chums.
It was explained, however, when he read the note. A glance at the
signature told him it was from "Captain Frank Dickerson."
"Boys, you only did your duty in exposing me, as you thought you did,"
wrote the officer. "I congratulate you on your nerve, and on doing
what you so plainly disliked to do, after I had saved your lives, as I
may flatter myself I did.
"So don't worry about me. I was only doing my duty, too, for Uncle Sam
when I was within the German lines and in a German uniform. And I
was also doing my duty when I was within your lines in an American
uniform. My superior officers know all about it. That is all I can
say now, except to add that I was not under arrest very long. But that
action had to be taken to keep my plans from becoming known, even to
the major. I hope to meet you all again."
"Say, what does it all mean?" asked Jimmy, to whom so many things
had happened in the last few hours that it was no wonder he was a bit
dazed. "What's all this talk about the government knowing he was in
German uniform and all that?"
"Don't you understand?" inquired Bob, with a smile. "He was a spy."
"Of course he was a spy!" asserted Jimmy. "I sized that up all right.
He was a spy inside our lines and--"
"Yes, but he was also a spy inside the German lines," put in Roger.
"Don't you understand, Blazes! Captain Dickerson wore the German
uniform to get possession of some of their secrets. He's in the United
States Secret Service."
Jimmy looked first at one and then at the other of his chums, until he
had faced them all in turn.
"Gee!" he exclaimed at length. "What a chump I was not to guess that,
when he acted so coolly after I denounced him! What a chump I was!"
"Oh, well, we couldn't guess everything," said Franz, "And he
certainly acted suspiciously at times."
"Yes, so I dinks myself," agreed Iggy, who had not spoken for some
time.
"Well, it's all over--at least we've cleared up two mysteries,"
observed Bob. "I wonder what will happen next?"
"Well, there's going to be more fighting; that's sure," declared
Jimmy, "and I want to do my share!"
"Same here!" echoed his chums.
And whether they did or not will be told in our next volume, entitled,
"The Khaki Boys Fighting to Win; or, Smashing the German Lines."
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's The Khaki Boys Over the Top, by Gordon Bates