“That'd be a pretty risky way of doing it,” he said.
“Can you think of a better?” Jack demanded quickly.
“Not off hand,” came the reply. “We've got to stew over it a bit. One thing's sure—we've got to get Harry out, or his sister never will feel like going back home and facing the folks.”
“That's right!” agreed Jack. “We've got a double motive for this. But I'm afraid it's going to be too hard.”
“That's what we thought when we rescued Mrs. Gleason from the old castle where Potzfeldt had her caged,” retorted Tom. “But you made out all right.”
“Yes; thanks to your help.”
“Well, we'll both work together again,” declared Tom. “And now let's try this Lewis gun. The last time we were up it jammed on me, and yet it worked all right on the ground.” So they tested the guns, looked to the motor, and in general made ready for a flight when the weather should clear.
This happened two days later, when the fog and mist were blown away and the blue sky could be seen. In the interim the artillery and infantry on both sides had not been idle, and there had been some desperate engagements, with the brigaded American troops making a new name for themselves.
“I guess there'll be something doing to-day,” remarked Tom, as he and Jack tumbled out of bed at the usual early hour. “Clear as a bell,” he announced, after a glance from the window. “Shouldn't wonder but what we went over their lines to-day.”
“And I suppose, by the same token, they'll be coming over ours,” and Jack nodded to indicate the Germans.