GALLANT WORK
The water had a chill in it that struck to Frank's marrow, but the
reaction soon came and he proceeded swiftly, making as little noise as
possible, and keeping body and head low in the water. He was a
powerful swimmer, and the distance was as nothing to him. But the
greatest caution had to be exercised lest he be discovered by a sentry
whose shot would alarm his comrades and put an end to the projected
raid.
But fortune favored him and he soon reached the boat, which seemed to
be large enough, with some crowding, to carry the American party. It
swung with its stern toward the shore, to which it was held by a rope
that was passed about a cleat.
Frank clung for a moment to the bow and listened intently. He could
hear no breathing nor any other sound that indicated that any one was
on board. The Germans had evidently not dreamed of any such exploit as
that on which Frank was bent.
But that a watch was kept on the shore was evident, for Frank could
hear the measured step of a sentinel some distance away. The steps
receded as he listened, and he gathered that the patrol was an extended
one. Now was his time, while the sentry was at the further limit of
his beat.
Swiftly he climbed on board, slipped the rope from its cleat, and with
a push of an oar against the bank sent the boat some distance out into
the stream. He did not dare to row for he feared that the oars grating
in the rowlocks might betray him. But he made a paddle of one of the
oars, dipping it in alternately on opposite sides of the bow, paddle
fashion, and before long reached his party, by whom he was received
with intense though subdued jubilation.
In whispers Frank explained to Wilson what he had observed and action
was agreed on accordingly. The party, ten in all, bestowed themselves
as best as they might in their narrow quarters and the boat started on
its perilous expedition.
A paddle was employed as before, and the journey was necessarily slow,
for the boat sank in the water almost to the gunwales. But they
reached the other side at last, and Frank, slipping into the water,
waded to the bank, where he fastened the boat securely.
Whether they would ever step into that boat again was known to none of
the party that slipped like shadows up the grassy bank. They were
outnumbered two to one, or more, and their success depended mainly on
surprise. The slightest slip in their plans would bring the expedition
to grief.
They lay flat on the bank and listened. There was no sound except the
tread of the sentry's feet coming nearer. It was unlikely that the
absence of the boat had been discovered. Still, it might have been,
and the dead silence might portend an ambush by the enemy.
This was a chance, however, that they had to take. But the first thing
to do was to dispose of the sentry.
The path along which he seemed to be coming was bordered with a small
and uncared-for hedge.
In a hurried whisper Wilson gave his commands.
"You, Sheldon and Raymond, creep ahead and lie on opposite sides of the
ledge. When the sentry comes along, close on him at the same time.
Keep him from making a noise if you can. The one thing is to be quick."
Frank and Bart glided along and took up positions opposite each other.
"You grab his gun, Bart, and I'll make for his throat," whispered Frank.
The sentry came on unsuspectingly. Lithe as panthers the boys leaped
upon him, Bart grasping the gun, while Frank's sinewy hands fastened on
his throat.
There was a muffled exclamation and a short sharp struggle. Then the
sentry lay on the ground unconscious, while Frank and Bart hastily
improvised a gag, and bound the man's hands and feet.
"Good work," commended the corporal, as Frank and Bart rejoined their
comrades. "That was the most ticklish part. The rest ought to be
easy."
But he was mistaken, for just then the door of a dugout in a small
trench opened, and two men came out with lanterns. It was evidently
the corporal of the guard who had come out with a private to relieve
the sentry.
There was an exclamation of surprise and alarm, and as the light of the
lanterns revealed the group of dark figures at the head of the trench,
the men started to leap back into the dugout. But a rifle cracked and
one of them fell. The other, however, got inside and slammed and
barred the door.
"Rush them, men!" shouted the corporal, and charged, at their head,
toward the dugout.
Two or three of them launched themselves against the door, but it held.
"Splinter it with your gun butts!" yelled the corporal, and a series of
heavy blows thundered against the barrier.
Some of the planks started to give, but before the door had completely
yielded, it was thrown open from within and the Germans rushed out,
firing as they came.
They were met by a return volley, and two of them fell. But the others
charged fiercely, and in an instant the two forces were engaged in a
terrible hand-to-hand battle.
In the narrow confines of the trench there was no chance for shooting
after the first volley. It was a matter of fists and knives and in
this the Germans proved, as they had many times before, that they were
no match for the sinewy young Americans who with a yell went at them
like wild-cats.
Sullenly they retreated and their leader held up his hands and shouted
"_Kamerad!_"
His followers did the same. The fight was over. None of the Americans
had been killed though one was slightly and another severely wounded.
Three of the Germans would never fight again and two others stood
supported by their comrades.
Two of the Americans stood at the door of the dugout and searched the
Germans for arms as they came through. Others stood at the head of the
trench and herded the prisoners together for transportation to the
other side.
The German corporal looked about him as he and his men stood guarded by
Americans with loaded rifles, and his chagrin was evident as he
realized that he had been captured by so small a force.
"Are these all the men you have?" he asked in passable English of
Wilson.
"They were enough, weren't they?" answered Wilson with a grin that
reflected itself on the faces of his comrades.
"_Donnerwetter!_" growled the German. "You would never have taken us
if we had known!"
"We don't tell all we know," answered Wilson with a grin.
The prisoners were ferried across in groups of half a dozen at a time,
but not before Billy had had the satisfaction of gathering up the
insulting placards that had aroused his ire and tearing them up before
the Germans' faces.
"Feel better now?" laughed Frank.
"Lots," replied Billy. "I couldn't exactly make them swallow them, but
they must have felt almost as bad to see so much German Kultur going to
waste."
The party was greeted with exuberant delight on their return, and
received the special thanks of the captain.
"It was a big risk," he smiled, "but risks have a way of going through
when they are carried out by the boys I'm lucky enough to command."
"You forget, Captain," smiled the lieutenant who stood nearby, "that
there are no American soldiers in France."
"That's so," laughed the captain. "The U-boats stopped us from coming
over, didn't they?"