THE JAWS OF DEATH
"There's just one possible chance," said Frank's colonel.
"What is that?" asked the general in command.
"An explosive bullet sent into the mine might explode it," replied the
colonel. "But it would have to be fired from a boat. We can't do it
from here."
"It would be certain death to whoever tried it," replied the general,
looking at the shell-swept stream.
"Not certain, perhaps, but probable," said the colonel. "It's the only
chance, though, to explode the mine. It can only be reached from
underneath."
"We'll try it," said the general with decision. "But I won't assign
any one to it. It's a matter for volunteers."
When the call came for volunteers, Frank sprang forward and saluted.
Bart and Billy followed close behind him.
The officer's eye swept the three and rested on Frank.
"You volunteer?" he asked. "You know the danger?"
"Yes, sir," they responded.
A gleam of pride and admiration came in the general's eyes.
"Very well," he said. "I'm proud to be your commander."
Orders were hurriedly given, explosive bullets were furnished; and a
few minutes later a small boat carrying the three Army Boys shot out
from the shore.
The dusk had thickened now, and Bart and Billy, who were rowing, hugged
the bridge as closely as they could, so as to profit by its shadow.
None of this bombardment had been directed at them as yet, because
their little boat had not been seen. But when they were forced to move
a little way from the shadow of the bridge, so that Frank could get the
proper angle from which to fire, they were detected, and a perfect
tempest of fire opened up not only from the batteries on the further
shore, but from the soldiers who were on the bridge.
Frank knew exactly where the powder charges had been located. His
rifle was loaded and he had sufficient confidence in his marksmanship
to believe that only one shot would be needed.
All he dreaded was that a bullet might strike him before he had done
his work. After that it did not so much matter. He knew that he had
taken his life in his hand and he had already counted it as lost.
Bart and Billy were rowing like fiends. At last they reached the point
that Frank had indicated. He peered through the dusk and could see the
outlines of the mine.
The bridge now was black with Germans. They had covered two-thirds of
the distance over it, and they were packed so closely, crowding on each
other's heels, that the rails of the bridge bulged outward with the
pressure.
Frank raised his rifle to his shoulder, took steady aim and fired.
There was a hideous roar, and then the shattered timbers of the bridge
went hurtling toward the sky. Hundreds of bodies were mingled with the
debris, and the water surged up in great waves as the mass fell back
into the river.
Where the bridge had been there was a yawning gap of two hundred feet.
At either end there was a remnant of the bridge still standing, and on
these the survivors were rushing frenziedly toward the land before the
remaining timbers should give way.
Those Germans who were left on the American side, severed from the help
of their comrades, were surrounded and disarmed as soon as they reached
the shore. The attempt at capture had ended in a terrible disaster to
the German forces.
The instant Frank fired. Billy and Bart plunged their oars in the
water and started rowing with all their might away from the bridge.
But despite their efforts they could not get out of the danger zone in
time. A heavy piece of timber struck the side of the boat, crushing it
in and throwing the occupants into the water.
Frank and Billy came to the surface a moment later and shook the water
from their eyes. They looked about for Bart, but he was not to be seen.
Instantly Frank dived, searching frantically for his chum. His arm
came in contact with someone's hair. He grasped it and drew the body
to the surface.
It was Bart, but he was unconscious. The timber that had smashed the
boat had caught him a glancing blow on the head and stunned him.
Frank held his comrade's face above the water and shouted to Billy, who
also had been searching and had just come up. He swam to Frank's side
and helped him in bearing up Bart.
They found a floating plank, over which they placed Bart's arms and
then with Frank holding on to Bart's body and Billy guiding the plank
they struck out for the nearer shore.
They had been nearer the American than the German side when the
explosion took place. But the current was bearing strongly toward the
German side and they had been carried some distance by it while they
were taking care of Bart. The consequence was that, while they thought
that the nearer bank was that held by their own troops, it was the
German side towards which they were moving with their unconscious
burden.
They were within a few feet of the shore at some distance below where
the bridge had stood, when Frank's quick ear heard the sound of voices
speaking in German. At first he thought it was probably some of the
prisoners whom the American troops had captured. But a moment later he
recognized a dilapidated fishing pier that he had often gazed at from
his own side of the river, and the truth burst upon him.
They were on the wrong side of the river! If Bart had been in the same
condition as Billy and himself, their situation, though dangerous,
would not have been desperate. They were all strong swimmers and
although fearfully tired from their exertions would have been able to
swim across to comrades and safety.
But it was another matter with Bart unconscious. Frank did not know
what had caused his friend's injury. Perhaps he had been shot. At
this very moment, for all Frank knew, his chum might be bleeding to
death. Above all things he wanted to find dry land, where he could
examine his chum and render him first aid if necessary.
He communicated with Billy in whispers.
"We've gone and done it, old scout," he whispered. "We're on the
German side."
"That's good news--I don't think," returned Billy.
"Let's swim in under this old pier," suggested Frank, "We'll be out of
sight then and we may strike a bit of beach up toward the head of it."
They followed the suggestion and were relieved to find that there was a
little stretch of dry sand beyond the water line. They took Bart from
the plank and bore him out on the sand. Here they rubbed his wrists
and tried as far as they could in the darkness to ascertain the extent
of his injuries. Frank did not dare to use his flashlight for fear of
betraying their presence to the enemy.
To their immense relief Bart soon showed signs of returning animation.
He opened his eyes and was about to speak, when Frank put his hand
gently on his lips.
"Don't speak, old man," he whispered. "You're all right. It's Frank
speaking. Billy's here. Just whisper to me and tell where you're
hurt. But be careful, for the Germans are all around us."
"Guess I'm not hurt much," whispered Bart. "Got a clip on the head
when that beam struck the boat."
"Sure you didn't get a bullet?" asked Frank anxiously.
"I don't think so," replied Bart. "Head's dizzy from that crack, but I
feel all right everywhere else."
"Bully!" said Frank. "Now you just lie there till you get your
strength back, and then we'll figure out what's to be done."
It was a hard problem, and it became none the easier a few minutes
later when a boat came along under oars and was tied up at the end of
the pier. It was a big boat and similar to those in which the Germans
had made their unsuccessful attempt to cross the river a few days
before.
It had evidently been out in the river picking up the wounded who had
been thrown into the stream by the explosion. The rickety planks
creaked as the soldiers carried the wounded survivors over the pier to
the bank beyond. It would have been an exceedingly bad time for the
Army Boys to be discovered and they crowded back as far as they could
to escape detection.
The Germans were in a terrible rage over the body blow that had been
dealt them in the destruction of the bridge. Apart from the heavy
losses in men their entire plan of campaign would have to be
reconstructed.
"That one bullet of yours was a mighty effective one, Frank," whispered
Billy.
"It was classy shooting," said Bart. "From a rocking boat with shells
bursting all around and so much depending on it, there'd have been lots
of excuse for missing."
"Maybe the old Thirty-seventh isn't feeling good over the way the thing
went through," chuckled Billy.
"And maybe we won't get the glad hand when we get over there," murmured
Bart.
"We've got to get there first," whispered Frank, "and we've got a
mighty slim chance of doing that as long as this boat stays here."
Every instant was fraught with peril. They had no weapons and even if
they had they would have stood no chance against the throng of enemies
surrounding them. Their only hope of safety lay in not being
discovered.
But at last, to their great relief, the German rowers resumed their
places at the oars and the boat pulled out into the darkness.
"Thank heaven, they're gone at last!" breathed Billy.
"Do you feel equal to the swim over, Bart?" asked Frank.
"Sure thing," replied Bart. "My head's dizzy yet, but with you and
Billy to give me a hand, if necessary, I'll get through all right."
As silently as so many otters they slipped into the water and struck
out for the other side.
The current was strong and the work was arduous, especially with the
care they had to exercise lest any splash should be heard by the enemy.
There was also the chance that one of the boats that were abroad might
come in their direction. But aided by the pitch darkness that
prevailed, they made the trip in safety and Bart had no need of calling
on the aid of his comrades.
As they drew near the other side a sentry hailed them.
"Halt!" he cried. "Who goes there?"
"That's Fred Anderson," murmured Billy, as he recognized the voice.
"Friends!" called Frank. "Hello, Fred. It's Raymond, Waldon and
Sheldon."
There was a shout of delight, and Fred, accompanied by several other
sentries, came running to the water's edge.
"Glory, hallelujah!" shouted Fred, as eager hands pulled the Army Boys
up on the bank. "So you pulled through after all. The whole regiment
had given you up. Say, if they'd known you were coming every mother's
son of them would have been down here to meet you and they'd have
brought the band with them. Come along now, but I warn you in advance
that all the fellows will shake your hands off."
They still had their hands when their mates got through with them, but
Fred had not over-estimated the royal welcome that awaited them. They
had always been prime favorites with the boys of the old
Thirty-seventh, and that afternoon's exploit made them more popular
than ever. Their officers, too, were jubilant at their return.
They were taken to headquarters, where the general thanked them and
shook hands with each in turn.
"I don't need any report from you," he smiled. "I heard that when the
bridge went up. It was a brave deed, most gallantly done. I thank you
in the name of the army. Your names will be cited to-morrow in the
orders of the day and I shall personally bring the matter to the
attention of General Pershing."