A few moments later the German was lying on the ground, his hands bound with portions of his own clothing.
“Guess he won’t bother about yelling ‘Kamerad’ again,” said Hal.
“Well, we’re all here,” said Bowers with a smile. “So where do we go from here, sir?”
At that moment, far back, came the crash of infantry fire. Turning, Hal and Bowers perceived the foremost line of advancing Americans in the distance.
“Wow!” cried Bowers, and his trench helmet went sailing high in the air. “Here they come, sir. Don’t they look fine?”
“You bet they do, Bowers,” Hal shouted, carried away by his own enthusiasm.
Indeed, it was an inspiring sight, the long line of khaki-clad figures which came sweeping forward at a slow run.
“They’ll come up to us presently. All we have to do is wait,” said Hal.
The long line came directly toward them. At the pace they were advancing they would reach Hal, Bowers and their tank in fifteen minutes. But suddenly the formation of the charging troops changed.
“Hey!” cried Bowers. “They’re not coming this way after all.”