“Guess I’d better hug down inside here,” he said calmly. “Fritz almost nicked me that time.”
The boys became silent. Every moment or two, one or the other, exercising extreme caution, peered toward the enemy, for they did not wish to be caught napping, should the Germans, knowing that the odds were two to one in their favor, decide to rush them.
Chester looked at his watch.
“Almost five o’clock,” he said. “It’ll be dark soon and then we can get away from here.”
“Guess Fritz will be as glad as we will,” Hal commented.
As it developed, however, the lads were not to get back to their own lines so easily.
The particular section of the great battle zone in which the lads found themselves when this story opens was perhaps ten miles south and west of St. Quentin, at that time in German hands. The river Oise flowed some five miles to the east and also was held by the enemy.
Darkness now drew on apace and Hal and Chester, making sure that their rifles and side arms were in perfect condition, prepared to quit their refuge.
“Better wait a few minutes,” said Chester. “It’s not quite dark. We would still make pretty fair targets on level ground.”
“It won’t be dark enough to cover us anyhow,” Hal replied. “See the moon.”