JUST IN TIME
"Those fellows are old campaigners," commented Bart. "You can tell
that by the tactics they're using. It's the old system they tried
at the Marne and in the Argonne, making a rush for a few yards,
throwing themselves flat, and then repeating the process until
they got near enough to rush us."
"A pretty good system, too," commented Tom, "but it didn't win
then and it isn't going to win now. Just watch me wing one or two
of these Huns and put a crimp into their tactics."
His chance came even while he was speaking, for one of the Germans
thrust his rifle out from behind a tree and fired. At the same
instant, Tom's rifle cracked, and the bullet ploughed its way
through the man's right shoulder. He fell with a groan and rolled
out from behind his shelter on to the snow. He was an easy mark as
he lay there, but Tom refrained from firing again. The man was out
of the fight and as good as dead as far as any further offensive
was concerned. Besides, it was no part of the American idea of war
to kill a wounded foe, although it was a matter of record that it
had frequently been done by the Germans.
"Good shooting, old man," commented Frank. "You haven't got out of
the way of potting them."
"One less to cause us trouble," remarked Billy. "Gee, if I didn't
have these prisoners to watch! I'm getting cross-eyed, trying to
keep one eye on them and the other on these fellows that are
trying to rush us."
"Keep both eyes on the prisoners," directed Frank, "especially on
that red-beard person. He's bad medicine. We'll handle these
fellows. Ah, you will, will you?"
The last exclamation was prompted by one of the Germans who tried
at that moment to glide from a small tree behind which he was
sheltered to a larger one that seemed to promise better
protection. He moved swiftly, but Frank's bullet was swifter, and
the man went down with a bullet in his thigh.
"Talk about sniping," grinned Bart. "Those fellows will wake up
after a while to the fact that they've tackled a hornet's nest.
Even a thick German head can take in an idea sometimes."
"Especially if it's pushed in by a bullet," added Tom.
Just then a volley came from the besiegers, and a rain of bullets
buried themselves in the trees behind which the boys were
crouching.
Bart gave a sharp exclamation.
"Are you hurt, Bart?" asked Frank anxiously.
"Not much, I guess," replied Bart, putting his hand to his
shoulder where the cloth had been torn away. "Just ridged the
flesh. It doesn't amount to anything."
There was a little blood issuing from the shoulder, but Frank was
relieved on examination to find that the bullet had just grazed
the flesh, breaking the skin but doing no serious damage. He put a
little ointment and lint on it and held the bandage firm with a
bit of adhesive plaster, though Bart declared that it was not
worth bothering about.
"Here they come!" cried Tom.
The besiegers had gathered themselves for a rush, and now they
came in a body toward the trees, firing as they ran.
The rifles of the Army Boys spoke, and two of their assailants
went down. The rest faltered for a moment, and in that moment
another of their number fell.
This seemed to dash the spirit of the attackers. They had
evidently counted upon the retreat of the defenders when they saw
three times their number bearing down upon them. They faltered,
then broke and ran, not this time to the nearest shelters, but
straight back to the place from which they had first started. The
accurate shooting had given them a wholesome respect for their
opponents, and their only thought was to get out of the range of
those deadly rifles.
The boys might have shot more of them as they ran, but that was
not in Frank's plan. All he wanted was to get them out of his path
so that he could get his prisoners to camp, and he wanted to do it
with as little bloodshed as possible.
"Guess they've got enough of our game," remarked Tom, as he
reloaded his rifle.
"Shouldn't wonder," replied Bart. "We called their bluff. They
thought we'd have a case of nerves when we saw them come rushing
towards us. But we've seen those fellows' backs too often to be
afraid of their faces."
The Germans continued their retreat until they had gotten to a
reasonably safe distance, and then they gathered together and
seemed to be consulting as to their next move.
Frank watched them keenly. Suddenly he saw a commotion in their
ranks, and looking in the direction to which their faces had
turned, he saw a body of men larger than the first coming over the
snow.
"Another bunch of disbanded soldiers," he muttered anxiously, as
he saw that the newcomers were Germans and had now quickened their
steps in answer to the shouts and gestures of their first
assailants. "Now we're up against it for fair."
"We didn't figure on tackling the whole German army," growled Tom.
"Our ammunition is getting low, too," remarked Bart, ruefully, as
he looked at his cartridge belt. "We'll have to make every shot
tell from now on."
"If the bullets give out, we'll light into them with our bayonets
and gun butts," gritted Frank between his teeth. "We've started to
get these prisoners to camp, and we'll get them there or die
trying."
"I know what the Germans would do if they were in our place,"
remarked Tom. "They'd stand the prisoners in front of them, so
that the other fellows would have to kill their own comrades
before they could get at them."
"I know they would," agreed Frank. "They did that in Belgium even
with women and little children. But we're human beings, and we
don't do that sort of thing."
By this time the two bodies of men had joined, and Frank estimated
that altogether they numbered more than forty.
"Ten to one," he remarked when he had finished counting, "and most
of those new arrivals have guns."
"We're in for another rush," said Bart, "and this time they won't
cave in as easily as they did before. The Germans are plucky
enough when they fight in numbers."
The Army Boys looked carefully to their rifles and loosened their
knives in their sheaths. Then by a common impulse they shook hands
all around. Nothing was said, but each knew what was in the hearts
of the others. They felt that they were in for a fight to the
death, and with the heavy odds against them it looked as though
none of them would come out alive.
But the expected rush did not come.
"Can't be that they've given it up, do you think?" asked Tom,
after five minutes had passed.
"Nothing like that," replied Frank. "They're holding a big pow-wow
about something."
As he spoke, a figure detached itself from the crowd and came
towards them, waving a white handkerchief attached to a stick.
"The white flag!" exclaimed Frank. "They're going to invite us to
surrender."
"You know what Whittlesey told them in the Argonne when they tried
the same thing on the lost battalion," remarked Bart.
"We'll tell them the same thing, only a little more politely,"
Frank assured him with a grin.
The man approached until he was about fifty feet distant, and then
stood there, waving the flag and by gestures inviting the
defenders to come out and meet him.
"You're elected, Frank," laughed Billy. "Go out and let Heinie
spiel his little spiel."
Frank laid aside his rifle and stepped from behind his tree. He
walked directly toward the messenger, who lowered the makeshift
flag and stood waiting.
"What is it that you want?" Frank asked in German, when he had
come within speaking distance.
"We want you to surrender," replied the man in excellent English.
"And if we don't?" continued Frank, in his native tongue.
"Then you'll be committing suicide," answered the other promptly.
"I'm not so sure of that," replied Frank. "I suppose you'd have
said that before you made your last rush. But as you see, we're
not dead yet."
"That was different," replied the messenger. "You can see now that
we have double the number we had before and more than double the
guns. You can't possibly hold out against us."
"Maybe not," replied Frank, "but at any rate we're going to try.
If you want us, you'll have to come and take us, and even then
you'll only get our dead bodies, for we won't be taken alive."
He spoke with a decision that seemed to disconcert the man who
stood for a moment irresolute.
"Is that your last word?" he asked.
"I have only one word," replied Frank. "You heard me. Go back and
tell your comrades to come on as soon as they like. They'll find
us ready for them. But I warn you now as I warned you before that
our Government will get you--every last one of you. You may kill
us, but you'll swing for it."
He turned to go back to his friends, but the messenger still stood
there.
"Well," said Frank, turning around, "why don't you go? Got
anything more to say?"
"Only this," returned the messenger. "My comrades will not insist
on your surrender. But we must have the prisoners. If you give
them up, you may go where you will."
"So you had that little joker in reserve, did you?" asked Frank
grimly. "Well, my answer is just the same. We've got those
prisoners, and we're going to keep them. We started to take them
into camp, and we're going to take them there. If you get them at
all, you'll get them after we're dead."
There was no mistaking the determination in his tones, and there
was a look of unwilling admiration in the eyes of the messenger as
he turned to depart.
"You are foolish," he said, "but you have had your chance. You and
your companions are doomed."
"That may be," replied Frank, "but if we are, we'll take a lot of
you along with us."
They separated and returned to their respective camps.
"Get ready now, boys, for the fight of your lives," Frank
admonished his comrades, after he had told them of what had passed
between him and the flag bearer.
"Let them come," said Bart. "We're good for a lot of them if our
bullets hold out."
"And when they're gone, we've got our bayonets," put in Tom.
"And our knives may do some damage," added Billy, as his hand
rested on the haft of his.
With every faculty alert and their eyes fixed upon their enemies,
the Army Boys waited for the expected rush.
"What are they waiting for?" muttered Tom peevishly. "Are they
getting cold feet? Or are they waiting for another gang of hoboes
to join them before they care to tackle us?"
"It isn't that," Frank answered. "They may be planning new
tactics. Their others didn't work very well."
"I believe they're going away," cried Billy, as he saw the crowd
dispersing.
"Guess again," returned Frank. "They're doing what I've been
afraid all along they'd try to do. They're spreading out so as to
surround us on all sides. They didn't have men enough to do that
at first, but they've got them now."
A few minutes more and they saw that Frank was right. The men were
describing a wide circle, with the evident intention of attacking
the Army Boys from all sides at once.
"That means that they'll drive us out into the open," said Frank.
"We can't be on both sides of a tree at once. Half of them at
least can take pot shots at us without our having any shelter."
"It's good dope from their point of view," remarked Tom. "We'd
better start in to discourage it right away. They think they're
out of range, but I'm going to try to prove to them that they're
mistaken."
His eye ran along his rifle barrel, and after taking unusually
careful aim he fired. One of the Germans threw up his hands and
fell.
"A long shot, but I got him," remarked Tom with satisfaction.
"Some shot," said Bart approvingly.
The immediate result was a widening of the circle as the others
tried to get back further out of range. But the circle kept
forming just the same, and in a quarter of an hour it was
completed.
Then it began contracting, the foe taking advantage of every hill
and every tree to get nearer. Occasionally they would send over
some scattering shots, but in the main they held their fire until
they should get into closer quarters.
The Army Boys in the meantime had been working feverishly. The
trees were no longer to be relied on, with enemies at the back as
well as at the front. So they dug furiously into the snow, until
they had heaped it high enough all around them to form a circular
trench.
When they had finished, the top of the trench was on a level with
their eyes, so that their bodies were sheltered. But they had to
lift their heads above it as often as they sighted and fired their
rifles, and they risked getting a bullet every time they did it.
By now the enemy was creeping closer, and there was a constant
zipping of bullets around and over their heads. The boys
themselves were forced to husband their fire, because of their
scarcity of ammunition, and they wasted no bullets in merely
returning the enemy's fire. They watched their opportunities, and
wherever an arm or a head showed itself, it became a target for
their rifles. Sometimes they missed, but oftener they found their
mark, and they knew that they had put at least five of their
enemies out of the fighting. But the odds were still enormous, and
with every moment the Germans were drawing closer. Soon they would
be near enough for a concerted rush from all sides at once.
"It's coming soon now, fellows," Frank warned his comrades, "and
when it comes we want to jump out to meet it. We don't want to be
caught in this trench like rats in a trap. When I give the word,
let them have all you've got in your guns, and then we'll lay into
them with our knives and bayonets."
Several minutes passed and the enemy's fire died down. Soon it
ceased entirely and an ominous silence replaced the singing of the
bullets.
"Have they run out of ammunition, do you think?" Bart asked of
Frank.
"No such luck," was the answer. "They're getting ready for a rush.
On your toes now, and listen for the word."
One, two, three minutes passed. And then came the rush.
But it was not the rush that the boys had looked for!
Out from the trees with a wild cheer came tearing a squad of the
old Thirty-seventh, with Wilson at their head, and fell like an
avalanche on the foe!
The Germans were taken completely by surprise. In their
concentration on their expected prey they had failed to note the
foe approaching from the rear. There were a few scattered shots,
and then the Germans scattered and ran like so many hares in all
directions.