CHAPTER XIII
“JUST LIKE HIM!”
Jerry and Ned both confessed, afterward, that the sinking feeling, which seemed to carry their hearts away down into their muddy shoes, was greater at the knowledge that Bob was missing than it had been when they set out in the darkness to raid the Germans across the desolate stretch of No Man’s Land.
It was all so unexpected. He had gone through the baptism of fire with them—he had helped capture the Huns—and had been, seemingly, all right on the return trip. And then, on the very threshold of his own army home, so to speak, he had disappeared.
“Did any one see him fall or hear of his being hit?” asked the lieutenant, as he prepared to lead out a searching party. Ned and Jerry, of course, and by rights, would be members of it.
“No, he was right near me, Sir, and he said particularly, when I asked him, that he was only scratched,” declared Jerry. “I made sure Ned was the worst hurt.” 109
“How much are you hurt?” asked the captain, turning to Jerry’s chum.
“Oh, it’s only a scratch, Sir,” was the quick answer. “I can’t feel it now.”