Army Boys on the Firing Line Part 24

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 sh.o.r.e.

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 sh.o.r.e 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 fis.h.i.+ng 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 cla.s.sy shooting," said Bart. "From a rocking boat with sh.e.l.ls 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. "h.e.l.lo, 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 Pers.h.i.+ng."

CHAPTER XX

A TRAITOR UNMASKED

When Tom Bradford found himself racing toward the woods, the only thought in his mind was to put as great a distance as possible between himself and his would-be executioners.

At every step he expected to hear a shout raised and see a crowd of pursuers rush from the house like a pack of wolves after their prey.

The thought lent wings to his feet and he covered the distance in record time. And not until he was safe in the shelter of the friendly trees did he pause to draw breath and cast a glance toward the house.

If his escape had been noticed, there was absolutely no sign of it.

The landscape lay in serene and smiling beauty. Not a trace of life was to be seen about the house. It seemed scarcely possible that so much tragedy and so much peace could exist side by side.