There was no stopping him; he had gone.
“Matty’s a devil!” said the big man. “He’ll get it, all right. He’s equal to reaching over the Boches’ parapet and picking one off a Boche’s head!”
As we proceeded on our way, officers came out of the little houses to meet Captain P—— and the stranger civilian. They had to come out, as there was no room to take us inside; and sometimes they talked shop together after I had answered the usual question, “Is America against us?” There seemed to be an idea that we were, possibly because of the prodigious advertising tactics of a minority. But any feeling that we might be did not interfere with their simple courtesy, or lead them to express any bitterness or break into argument.
“How are things going on over your side?”
“Nicely.”
“Any shelling?”
“A little this morning. No harm done.”
“We cleaned out one bad sniper to-day.”
“Ought to have some sandbags up to-night.”
“It’s a bad place there. They’ve got a machine gun trained which has quite a sweep. I asked if the artillery shouldn’t put in a word, but the general didn’t think it worth while.”