In the course of the day, Phil, Evans, Tim and several other leading spirits had held half a dozen conferences and discussed plans for the following night. It was during these conferences that the scouting and foraging plans had been outlined. A bird-call code was also agreed upon and practiced in the course of the day for the purpose of enabling the scouts and foragers to locate one another or their hide-out in case any of them should lose his way.
The latter precaution proved to be of considerable service, as did also a check-up system adopted to determine when all who were sent out on their several missions had reported back. By about ten o’clock (estimated), therefore, the checking proved all to have returned with a gratifying supply of raw food, including apples, vegetables, half a dozen chickens and a young pig. The fowl had been captured alive, and it was decided to carry these to their next stopping place, but the pig, which one of the men had slain with a heavy club without the provocation of a squeal, had to be left behind.
The scouts brought back information to the effect that there was a clear field between them and the next town, and that a careful inspection failed to disclose a sign of an occupant in the place. So far as they were able to determine, the village was abandoned by both inhabitants and invaders.
Accordingly a silent, ghost-like march was made to this place. On the way they passed a score or more of bodies of dead soldiers and a like number of guns were found lying near them. Most of these were boches, as was later discovered by examination of their rifles and cartridge belts by the Americans and French who took possession of them.
“The advance over this ground was so rapid that they didn’t have time even to pick up the arms of their own dead,” Tim observed to Phil.
“So much the better for us,” the latter replied. “And I’ve a suspicion that it will work to the benefit of the Allies in more ways than one. This is a drive of desperation, or I miss my guess, and the boches are going to find themselves in a trap. They can’t possibly have enough reserves to maintain such an advance as this. I bet you’ll find in the end that Marshal Foch is just leading them on.”
“I wish he’d have General Pershing throw in some of his troops at this point,” said Tim eagerly. “They’d drive these fellows back, and we could jump in and have some real fun as the Gray Coats came running past us.”
“I can hardly hope that things will turn out just the way our dreams picture them,” said Phil dubiously. “But it surely would be great if we could put over such a stunt as that. Anyway, when we pick our last hiding place we’ll pick it with that in view.”
“We don’t want to advance too close to the enemy’s lines,” Tim argued; “because they may take a notion to back up a little and establish some kind of headquarters right where we are stationed.”
“Yes, that’s another thing we want to keep in mind. And we must also try to pick buildings that are not likely to interest them for any purpose.”