Phil took hold of the protruding brogans and pulled, but with no favorable result. He pulled again—the buried form moved slightly, and more earth slid down into the trench. The boy now realized that the situation was desperate—for the victim was no doubt a boche soldier; but the young Marine felt it a human duty to rescue him, nevertheless.
Just then he felt the presence of someone behind him, and as he turned to see who it was, Dan Fentress took hold of one of the protruding legs and whispered:
“Here, we’ll pull together. It’ll be tough on him, but not so tough as leaving him there until we can shovel ’im out. He has some chance this way.”
It was close quarters for two to work in side by side, but one strong pull together was effectual. A badly scared boche, hatless and with his face considerably the worse for rough dragging through a mass of earth and sharp stones, emerged, puffing with exhaustion and certainly not in condition to exclaim, “Thank you for saving my life!”
“Here’s his gun,” said Dan, reaching forward and pulling forth a Mauser from the loose earth that had almost buried it.
“And here’s his pistol,” said Phil, drawing a murderous looking weapon from the fellow’s holster. “He must be a general handy man for all kinds of service.”
The prisoners’ prisoner, who was rapidly recovering from the effects of his mishap and violent handling, sat up presently and looked about him with astonishment. Evidently he did not know what to make of the situation.
“See here, my good enemy friend,” Dan warned, pointing the Mauser at his head; “no noise out o’ you, or I’ll send you to the place where Kultur gets all the reward comin’ to it. We’re Marines, not submarines; and we hit above water.”
“Every word of that is lost on him,” said Phil, noting the blank expression on the boche’s countenance. “He’s not a very intelligent fellow—the better for us right now. He’s one of those old fellows they’ve dragged into the army to perform duties of secondary importance. We’d better get him back in the cellar and let some o’ the other boys take care of ’im.”
The unfortunate guard proved to be able to get on his feet and walk back to where the other Marines were waiting anxiously for an explanation of the disturbances that had reached their ears. Phil told the story in a few words and then said: