“There, Tim, our first strike was a bloomin’ good success. If we can keep this up half a dozen more times, we can go back home as chesty as a hunchback and get away with it.”
CHAPTER XXV
A CHAPTER OF WIND
If he had not been afraid of creating noises that would reach the ears of other enemy guards in the vicinity, Phil undoubtedly would have rushed toward his two friends, who had appeared so unexpectedly on the scene, and have welcomed them as if separated from him for years, instead of an hour, more or less. Tim’s companion was none other than Arthur Evans, one of the most interesting and capable of all the young sergeant’s comrades captured by the boches.
As it was, Phil merely advanced a pace or two and said in cautious tones:
“Hello, Tim, Evans. This is Phil Speed. What are you fellows up to?”
The two Marines thus addressed turned quickly, first to resist, then to welcome, the intruder.
“We’re attacking the enemy in the rear while our friends at Belleau Woods meet him in front,” replied Evans. “By the way, how have you succeeded thus far?”
“I don’t think I ought to answer that question,” Phil replied with mock severity. “Evidently you haven’t enough confidence in me to let me carry out my mission. You are decidedly weak in your judgment, to say the least. Suppose you had made a blunder and spoiled all my plans.”
“But we didn’t,” Evans returned; “and, as matters stand, I have a sort of conceit that we’ve helped matters along. Isn’t it so?”
“Yes, I guess it is.”