Army Boys in France Part 11

returned Frank, putting a detonator and explosive in the can and tamping it down in the clay. "Anything will do that will make Fritz see stars when it hits him."

Bart volunteered a broken jack knife; one lad contributed a couple of metal b.u.t.tons; others handed over nails.

Frank arranged the miscellaneous collection in as compact a ma.s.s as possible, put in more clay and then put on the tin cover, into which he first punched a hole. Through this hole the top of the fuse protruded.

Then he wrapped wire around the can so that the top could not come off, and the bomb was ready.

"There," he said, as he held his handiwork up for their inspection, "when that is sent over to the enemy trenches there will be something doing. It isn't much in the beauty line but it will get there just the same."

"Great head!" said Bart admiringly.

"Not mine but the fellow's who first figured it out," said Frank. "But it's a good thing to know, and you never can tell when it may come in mighty handy."

"I hear we're going to be ga.s.sed to-morrow," remarked Bart, as they made their way to their quarters.

Billy made a wry face.

"That's one of the most hideous things the Huns have brought into this war," he said. "I can imagine Satan chuckling when he heard of the gas attack."

"I don't think he chuckled," said Frank bitterly. "More likely he was jealous to have a German think of it before he did. It isn't often that he lets anyone get ahead of him."

"He'll have to step lively to keep ahead of the Huns," said Bart.

"They say there's no torture equal to that suffered by a man who has been ga.s.sed."

"And even if they don't die of it after days of agony, they might better have died," added another, "for it leaves them ruined for life."

"Surgeons get hardened in carrying on their profession," commented Frank. "They have to be or they couldn't keep their nerve. But they say that even the surgeons broke down when they stood beside the beds on which the gas victims lay gasping for breath. They had never seen such horrible anguish."

"Well, there's no use expecting Germans to carry on war like a civilized nation," declared Frank. "They've thrown all decency and humanity to the winds. They've raised the flag of the skull and crossbones and want to make all the rest of the world walk the plank.

They're pirates and barbarians, and there'll be no peace or security for mankind until they're punished for their crimes."

"It's a tough job that's put up to us Allies," said Bart. "A man's job. But we'll put it through, no matter what the cost may be."

"Right you are," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Frank fervently. "It wasn't only Nathan Hale who wished that he had more than one life to give for his country.

There are a million Nathan Hales among Uncle Sam's boys and millions more to come."

As Bart had predicted, their squad was lined up the next day for a practical test in gas defense. They had already had preliminary drills in adjusting the masks, which had to be slipped on in six seconds. It took a long time before this stage of excellence could be reached, for some of the men were doubly slow, slow in thought and slow in action.

The quicker ones had soon acquired the habit of adjusting the masks in the required time, and Frank and Bart could do it sometimes in five seconds. But the drill went on unceasingly until all acted as one man, for a single second's delay in fending off the infernal attack might mean all the difference between life and death--and such a death!

It was not a pretty sight, for the masks were hideous and the men looked like weird monsters from another planet.

"If only our friends could see us now!" murmured Bart to Frank in an undertone.

"They'd drop dead from fright," returned the latter.

"Deep sea divers have nothing on us," chimed in a third lad.

"You're insulting the divers," said Billy. "If they went down looking like this, the sharks would throw a fit."

At last the drill worked with clock-work precision, and the perspiring lieutenant wiped his brow and gave vent to a sigh of relief as he looked along the grotesque ranks.

"I guess they're ready now," he said, turning to the sergeant. "Take them down half a dozen at a time and let them get a sniff of the gas."

"_Let_ them," murmured a lad. "What a blessed privilege. Anyone would think that he was giving us a furlough for good conduct."

"Save your breath and come along," admonished Billy. "You'll need all you've got in a little while."

The squad was marched off to a little hut that stood in a distant corner of the camp. It was a crude creation with a door and only one window. Long before they got to it the boys could detect a faint acrid odor in the atmosphere.

"Now," said the sergeant halting his men at a little distance, "you fellows break ranks and come along in single file."

The single room of the hut had been filled with the same kind of gas that the Germans were using along the western front, but in greatly diluted form.

"Take off your masks," commanded the sergeant, "and go along past that window one by one. Make quick time too. I want you to learn just what the gas smells like, so that you can detect it the minute it comes near you after you get to the trenches."

The men obeyed orders, and, as they pa.s.sed, each got a whiff of the gas that was escaping through a slight opening of the window. There was a gasp, a cough, a wry face and a hurried scuttling by as each man went through the ordeal.

It is needless to say that there was no disposition to linger. Even the slowest man of the squad displayed unsuspected capacity for speed.

"Look at Fatty Bates," chuckled Billy, alluding to the most ponderous member of the company. "Talk about winged heels! Mercury has nothing on him."

"It certainly got a rise out of Fatty," grinned Bart. "It's worth a dollar to see him jump. Put a gas cloud after him and I'll bet he'd do a hundred yards in ten seconds flat."

"You'll jump too when your turn comes," prophesied Frank. "You'll think the lid has been taken off of the infernal regions."

The prophecy was verified, for though there was no danger, since the gas had been vastly diluted, yet the odor was so vile and the death it suggested was so horrible that they could not get away from it quickly enough.

"It's like pa.s.sing close to a rattlesnake whose fangs have been drawn,"

commented Frank. "You might know that he couldn't kill you, but if he struck at you you'd jump instinctively, just because he was a rattlesnake."

"Some perfume that," remarked Billy with an expression of dire disgust.

"New-mown hay--I don't think," growled Bart, sneezing as though he would shake his head loose from his shoulders. "I got a bigger dose than the rest of you slackers," he added with an air of superior virtue.

"Martyr to duty," mocked Frank. "But we're not through yet, fellows.

The worst is yet to come."

"Nothing can be worse," grumbled Fatty Bates, with profound conviction.

"Oh, yes, it can," said Billy, a.s.suming the role of Job's comforter.

"We've got to go inside that Chamber of Horrors and stay there five minutes by the clock."

"Will we come out on our feet or be carried out?" asked Fatty Bates with a worried expression.

"You'll never be carried out, Fatty," chaffed Billy. "It would take the whole regiment to do that. It'll be a crane and derrick for you sure."

"We'll put a torpedo under him and blow him through the roof," added Bart.

"Now men," said the sergeant, "put on your masks and go inside, one after the other. There's no danger if you've learned to put them on perfectly. But if there's any sloppy work, the fellow that's careless will find it out soon enough, and he'll get all that's coming to him."