"If we must go down in defeat," yawned Reade, "I believe we may at least look for the satisfaction of carrying a few Huns with us. I believe I have forgotten to mention the fact that I have my automatic pistol with me. It's hidden, but I could show it to you."
"I'm glad you have it," murmured Dick, as he closed his eyes.
"I never before felt the desire to slay human beings, but since
I've struck the French front I've had a constant desire to kill
Huns!"
"To-night, then," said Reade drowsily, "we may find the chance both to kill Huns and get back to the French lines."
CHAPTER XXIII
THE DASH TO GET BACK TO PERSHING
"After dark, by a whole hour!" whispered Reade, after waking, striking a match and looking at his wrist watch. "Hustle, Dick!"
Tom's next act was to light a candle. "Want supper?" he asked.
"I could eat it," Prescott replied. "But what's the use?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why waste time with eating when there's the slimmest chance to get away?" Dick continued.