“I’m able right now,” said Chester, struggling to his feet.
Leaning heavily on Hal’s arm, Chester turned his eyes toward the river bank, which now was lined with British troops, who were firing steadily at forms disappearing on the opposite side of the stream. The approach of the English in force had caused the Germans to beat a rapid retreat. From the opposite shore, however, still came puffs of smoke, and bullets continued to fall among the English troops, and here and there men fell to the ground.
“They arrived just in time, didn’t they, Hal?” said Chester.
“You bet they did,” was the reply. “But come, we will try to make our way back to our station.”
With Chester still leaning on his shoulder, Hal led the way, going very slowly because of his burden. Making his friend comfortable under an army wagon, Hal went at once to Gen. French to make his report.
“You have done well,” was the general’s only comment when Hal had concluded his recital.
Hal saluted and left.
“Guess I’ll go back and keep Chester company,” he said to himself.
He was walking slowly along with bowed head, musing, when he came suddenly into contact with another figure. The man with whom he had collided mumbled an imprecation and violently pushed the lad away, at the same time exclaiming: