“I guess the best thing you can do, Nat, is to steer clear of such cattle,” said the senator’s son. “No one will ever want to forgive a fellow who was a coward in the face of the enemy.”
“Oh, I’m done with Gebauer; so you don’t have to preach to me about that,” growled the money lender’s son sourly. “I found out what he was quite some time ago.” And then, after a few more words, Nat Poole marched away from the others, looking anything but happy.
“He acts as if he had something on his mind,” was the way Ben expressed himself.
“Probably he is very much upset over the way Gebauer acted,” returned Phil. “The pair were quite chummy, if you’ll remember.”
“There was something about that Gebauer I never liked,” said Roger slowly. “He always made me think of a snake in the grass. I’ve got half a notion that he was a pro-German. Maybe his cowardice was all put on. He may have just been acting that way trying to help the enemy to a victory.”
“Gosh! If that’s so, he ought to be exposed!” cried Ben.
“Probably he has been exposed. They wouldn’t send him to the rear for nothing.”
The next day the battle was on again in all its fury. The Americans advanced through one of the villages, and then up a long hillside leading to some new positions which the Germans had fortified. There was much for both the infantry and the artillery to do, and the bombardment by the small and big guns kept up night and day, until the ground fairly trembled with the concussions.
There was much for the engineers to do, and Roger and his chums worked for sixteen hours, scarcely stopping to eat. They had a road to cut through one of the forests, and had also to build several small bridges.
It was highly dangerous work, and more than once a bomb exploded close to them, sending the dirt and rocks flying in every direction. Once Shadow went down, struck in the head, and some of the others had to carry him to the rear. He was not dangerously wounded, however, for which he was thankful.