Whirling his gun about his head, he cleared a space about himself and his panting comrade. A moment’s respite and again they plunged into the thick of the fight.
“Hot stuff, eh?” said Tom, with a twisted grin on his lips that had been cut by a glancing bayonet thrust.
“Hot’s the right word,” gasped Frank. “Where are Bart and Billy?”
“I don’t know,” replied Tom, and then, as a group of Germans surged in upon them, they said no more but went at it tooth and nail.
It was not an easy victory, for the Germans fought desperately. But victory at last it proved to be, as the Yankee boys pressed forward with that same splendid get-there-or-die spirit that they had shown ever since the first glorious days at Belleau Wood and Château Thierry. Soon the long lines broke up into separate groups and a few minutes later the Germans began to retreat, slowly at first and then more rapidly, until the wood in front of the old Thirty-seventh had been cleared, and the American line had been advanced far beyond where it had been when the fighting had begun.
The Americans had lost a considerable number of men, but not so many as the enemy, for the ground was covered with German dead.
Frank had come through unscathed, except for a slight ridge in the scalp that a bullet had barely grazed, but Tom’s cut lip had swelled so that his mouth was twisted in a ludicrous shape and he could only speak with difficulty. At any other time Frank would have been inclined to “guy” him over the comical appearance he presented, but now, as always after a hot fight, his first thought was of Bart and Billy. He looked about him anxiously, but could see nothing of them as his glance darted in and out among the trees.
“Could anything have happened to the old scouts, do you think?” he asked of Tom.
“They’ll turn up all right,” answered Tom, with more confidence than he really felt. “There’s Billy now,” he exclaimed with great relief, pointing to the right, “and I’m blessed if the old boy isn’t driving a couple of Huns in front of him.”
It was Billy, sure enough, as jaunty and chipper as ever, walking behind two Germans who shuffled along sullenly enough. Billy’s face broke into a broad grin as his friends hurried toward him.