“Look here,” said Captain Folsom, approaching the boys, after having ascertained first that the man whom he had shot had only a flesh wound; “we aren’t out of the woods yet. These fellows are determined scoundrels, and they know they can’t afford to let us escape. Finding they can’t rush us, they will next try to work around through the trees and attack us from this side. I think we had better make a dash around Tom Barnum’s corner and get into the radio station.”
“But how about my going to the beach to meet Lieutenant Summers?” asked Jack.
“Our position ought to be evident to him,” said Captain Folsom. “He can understand what is going on, and come up cautiously. I can’t risk having any of you lads run the gauntlet. I’ve reproached 158 myself a hundred times already for leading you into danger.”
“Nonsense, Captain,” said Jack. “We volunteered. And we’re safe so far, aren’t we?”
The other shook his head with a smile of admiration. These boys were made of manly stuff.
“Come,” said he, “there is no time to waste. Any minute we may expect to be peppered from the woods on this side. Here, you two,” he added, addressing the two unwounded prisoners, “help your pal and march. We’re going into the radio station.”
The men, young, smooth-shaven and looking like what they were, city toughs, were cowed. Without a word, they moved to obey.
“All clear there, Tom?” asked Captain Folsom of Tom Barnum, who had kept up his watch at the forward end of the side wall.
“If we move fast we can make it,” Tom replied. “There’s nobody out here in front but the wounded, an’ they’re crawlin’ to cover.”
“Good,” answered Captain Folsom. “Now, altogether.”