There was another burst of star shells, but before the Americans had an opportunity to throw themselves on their faces, they saw that they were confronted by a large body of Germans who had come forward as silently as themselves, and, doubtless, on the same sort of errand.
“At 'em, boys! At 'em!” cried the lieutenant. “The Stars and Stripes! At 'em!”
Instantly pandemonium broke loose. In the glaring light of the star shells the two forces rushed forward. There was a burst of pistol fire, and then the fight went on in the darkness.
“Where are you, Tom?”' yelled Jack, as he flung a grenade full at a big, burly German who was rushing at him with uplifted gun.
“Here!” was the answer, and in the darkness Jack felt his chum collide with him so forcefully that both almost went down in a heap. “I jumped to get away from a Hun bayonet,” pantingly explained Tom.
Jack's grenade exploded, blowing dirt and small stones in the faces of the chums. There were shouts and cries, in English, French and German. The American lieutenant tried to rally his men around him, but, as was afterward learned, they were attacked by a much larger party of Huns than their patrol.
“We must stick together!” cried Jack to Tom. “If we separate we're lost! Where are the others?”
“Sam Zalbert was with me a second ago,” answered Tom, naming a lad with whom he and Jack had become quite friendly. “But I saw him fall. I don't know whether he slipped or was hurt. Look out!” he suddenly shouted.
He saw two Germans rushing at him and Jack, with leveled revolvers. There was no time to get another grenade from their pockets, and Tom did the next best thing. He made a tackle, football fashion, at the legs of the Germans, which he could see very plainly in the light of many star shells that were now being sent up.
Almost at the same instant Jack, seeing his chum's intention, followed his example, and the two Huns went down in a heap, falling over the heads of their antagonists with many a German imprecation. Their weapons flew from their hands.