“We’ve got ’em on the run!” was the cry of the Americans, and it proved true. The Germans were practically beaten, although they were still holding out as well as they possibly could, hoping in the meantime that their rulers might make some satisfactory terms with those who opposed them.
It was a rather pale and weak Lieutenant Porter who entered the camp of the engineers just as the fierce three days’ fighting had come to an end. He had already sent in word over a field telephone that he was alive and was coming, so that his chums were not as much surprised as they would otherwise have been. Yet they hailed his advent with great joy.
“It’s the best news yet, Dave!” cried Roger, grabbing him around the waist. “The very best yet!”
“You can’t imagine how bad we felt when we thought the Germans had killed you,” put in Phil.
“We went on all sorts of hunts for you,” added Ben. “But, of course, we didn’t find you, and we couldn’t imagine what had become of you.”
“I suppose you don’t know yet how I happened to be missing,” said our hero. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell it to you just as soon as I’ve rested.”
“We know something of the truth,” answered Roger, and a stern look crossed his face. “We know who assaulted you and rolled you down into the abandoned mine.”
“You do!” exclaimed Dave, in surprise. “That’s more than I know! Who did it?”
“Max Gebauer and Nat Poole.”