UNDERGROUND
"Look out, Leon!" cried Earl sharply. "Look out for that fellow."
Leon whirled swiftly in time to see a big-helmeted German with the butt
end of his rifle upraised preparing to strike. He ducked almost
without thinking and the blow fell harmlessly on the back of one of the
chairs in the little room. Before the gun could be raised again Earl
sprang upon their foe and grappled with him.
[Illustration: Leon whirled swiftly in time to see a big-helmeted
German with the butt end of his rifle upraised preparing to strike.]
He had his bayonet in his hands but somehow it did not occur to him to
use it. Like most Americans he preferred to fight with his fists, and
unconsciously he had discarded his rifle. With one hand he seized the
German by the throat and with the other he rained blow after blow upon
his great broad face.
The German however was a powerful man. He outweighed the young
American by at least thirty pounds and far outmatched him in strength.
With an oath he turned upon the plucky boy and a moment later held him
by the throat with both hands. Earl's breath was shut off short and
everything began to turn black before his eyes. He felt himself being
shaken as a terrier shakes a rat and consciousness began to slip away
from him. He decided that it was all over.
Suddenly the terrible strangle hold on his throat relaxed and with a
supreme effort he wrenched himself free and rose to his feet. There
stood Leon gazing down at the German lying on the floor of the little
subterranean apartment. One glance was enough to show Earl what had
taken place.
"You saved my life, Leon," he muttered weakly.
"Huh," snorted Leon. "I hated to stab him like that but it was the
only thing to do."
"He wouldn't have hesitated to fix us I guess," exclaimed Earl.
"Where's Jacques?"
"On the floor there."
"Is he dead?"
"I don't know. I haven't had a chance to look at him."
As they advanced towards their companion he moved slightly and tried to
get up.
"How do you feel, Jacques? Where did he hit you?" demanded Leon.
"He just grazed my head," murmured the young Frenchman weakly.
"Lucky for you," muttered Earl. "If he'd ever caught you squarely
you'd be dead now, sure enough."
"Let me see where you're hurt," exclaimed Leon bending over his friend.
"It's not much of a wound," said Jacques. "He just stunned me; I'll be
all right in a minute."
"Bring some water and a towel from that washstand over there, Earl,"
Leon directed his brother.
This was quickly done and the wound was bathed. The skin had been
broken and the blood flowed freely, but it was nothing serious. The
cold compress soon revived Jacques and a few moments later he was
apparently as well as ever.
"Feel all right, Jacques?" asked Earl.
"Never better."
"You'd better lie down here on this bed for a little while."
"I should say not," exclaimed Jacques warmly. "We were sent in here to
rout out the enemy and that's what we must do. There are surely more
of them than we have seen."
"Next time we must be more careful going into rooms like this," advised
Leon. "It doesn't pay just to go ahead blindly."
"Come," urged Jacques, and he led the way out of the little room down
the narrow passageway leading they knew not where.
Cautiously they slunk along, their eyes strained to see through the dim
light of the underground passage. The noise of the great cannonade
above came to their ears but faintly here. A hoarse rumbling and a
trembling of the earth was the sole evidence that over their heads the
opposing armies were hurling tons of metal at each other.
"There's a turn just ahead," whispered Jacques cautiously. "Be ready."
Every sense alert the three young soldiers proceeded slowly. Soon they
came to the spot where the passage led off to the left. Jacques peered
cautiously around the corner and quickly drew back his head.
"Come," he whispered, beckoning to his two companions. "Have your
grenades ready."
All three boys took hand grenades in their right hands and prepared for
instant action.
"Lean your rifles against the wall here," Jacques directed.
This done, they crept stealthily forward, the grenades in their right
hands and their automatic revolvers in their left. Making almost no
sounds, they walked gingerly around the corner of the passage and there
before their eyes they saw what had caused Jacques to draw back so
speedily a few moments before. Standing in the center of a little room
similar to the one they had just left were six Germans.
Their plan had been to steal upon their foes, taking them by surprise
and forcing them to surrender. This plan was unexpectedly thrown awry
however. One of the rifles leaned against the wall of the passage
slipped; it fell to the ground carrying the others with it and a loud
clatter was the result.
"Hein!" exclaimed one of the Germans wheeling quickly in the direction
whence the noise came. Seeing three French soldiers stealing towards
him he instantly whipped out his revolver and fired.
Leon, Jacques and Earl ducked quickly and instinctively.
"Let 'em have it!" shouted Leon and he let fly his hand grenade.
Straight down the passageway it sped and a tremendous explosion
instantly occurred. The little room was filled with smoke and the
three young soldiers could not see what was taking place in front of
them. Earl too hurled his deadly handbomb into the chamber and a
second explosion instantly took place.
"That's the way!" shouted Jacques. "That'll fix them I guess!"
All of the Germans had not been disposed of however. A moment later
the sharp crack of a revolver sounded from behind the wall of smoke and
a bullet winging its way through the half-light tore Jacque's hat from
his head. Another and still another shot followed the first.
"That's enough of that," muttered the young Frenchman grimly and his
hand-grenade took the same course that the two others had followed. A
deafening concussion ensued and then all was still.
"Keep back against the wall," warned Leon. "Have your pistols ready."
Crouching low and keeping as far away from the center of the passage as
possible the three boys awaited developments. Every boy grasped his
revolver firmly in his right hand and peered eagerly in the direction
of their enemies. Not a sound came from the room where the Germans had
been assembled.
"They're all dead I guess," whispered Earl at length.
"Don't be so sure," cautioned Leon. "Wait a minute longer."
With muscles tense and every nerve alert the three young soldiers
waited. It seemed as if the smoke from the three explosions would
never lift and the three boys felt as if hours had elapsed before they
could catch a glimpse of the room. Finally however the atmosphere
cleared away and they saw the results of their work.
"Let's go in there," exclaimed Jacques.
"Go slow," warned Leon. "It may be a trap."
"We'll be ready for them," said Jacques. "Come along."
Prepared for instant action, the three boys cautiously approached the
tiny room. They were fearful of a surprise attack but their fears
proved to be groundless. On the floor lay the bodies of six dead
Germans. The hand-grenades had done their work well.
"A man doesn't stand much chance against these grenades, does he?"
exclaimed Leon. "They're certainly deadly."
"Lucky for us they are," said Jacques shortly. "Now for a souvenir."
He drew his knife and bending low he quickly cut the buttons from the
jacket of one of the dead soldiers at his feet.
"What are you going to do with them?" demanded Earl curiously.
"Make rings," said Jacques calmly slipping the buttons into his pocket.
"These men belonged to the Imperial Guard."
"How do you know?"
"Look at the eagle on the buttons here; that proves it," and, as he
spoke, Jacques drew forth one of his trophies to show his comrades.
"We'd better move on," exclaimed Leon a moment later. "Go pick up your
hat, Jacques, and we'll get the rifles."
"My poor hat," laughed Jacques. "It will have a window in it now."
"You'd better be glad it isn't your head that has the window," said
Leon grimly. "I don't see that you have anything to complain about."
"I'm not complaining," smiled Jacques. "I agree that I am fortunate."
"Come along," urged Leon. "We may run into some more of the Boches any
minute."
"Boches" was what the French soldiers always called the Germans.
"I'm ready," exclaimed Jacques, and they returned to the spot where
their guns had been left. The young Frenchman rescued his hat which
had a hole cut cleanly through the crown. "It will give good
ventilation," he remarked laughingly.
They picked up their guns and were preparing to move on when Earl
suddenly held up his hand. "Listen," he whispered tensely. "I hear
someone coming."