A sigh of relief went up from the boys and their grip on their weapons relaxed.
"A mighty close shave," whispered Billy.
"It was all of that," agreed Bart.
"As close for them as it was for us," said Tom grimly. "I had that big fellow picked out and I'd have dropped him sure."
Like so many ghosts, the party drifted along in Corporal Wilson's wake until they came to the gap. A glance at the motionless sentry showed that he had not yet returned to consciousness.
"That was a knockout for fair," murmured Billy admiringly.
"He must have thought a house was falling on him," whispered Bart with a low chuckle.
"Frank's no featherweight," agreed Tom. "I'd hate to have those trench clogs of his come down on my back with him inside of them."
A warning "s—sh" from the corporal brought them back to the grim business still before them, and they crept along behind him as he wormed his way through the breach.
Camp utensils were scattered upon the ground and indicated that a field kitchen had stood there recently, an impression that became a conviction when Bart burned his hand by bringing it down upon some smoldering embers covered with ashes.