"Oh, Schnitz! Oh, Schnitz!" Jimmy sobbed out wildly.
"Blazes, my—bunkie!" Down Schnitzel's wan cheeks the tears were streaming.
Then Voissard knew and his own eyes blurred. For a moment he stood back, saying nothing. Realization of their peril made not only speech but prompt action necessary. Whipping a clasp knife from a coat pocket he opened it and proceeded to cut Schnitzel loose from the door. This done he offered his hand to the German-American, saying simply: "Thanks to le bon Dieu, we arrived in time. Now we must leave here instantly. Two of the beasts have escaped. They will give the alarm and a patrol will be sent out against us. We must make haste or perhaps all suffer the fate intended for you. The Boches will be much enraged over the loss of these canaille."
Voissard scornfully indicated the four dead Boches, sprawling hideously on the ground, the result of Jimmy's ability to shoot to kill.
"I'd forgotten the dogs for the moment." Turning from Schnitzel, Jimmy's face registered the utmost loathing as his eyes took in the ugly but satisfactory sight.
"Just a second and then we'll beat it. Come here, Blazes."
Schnitzel strode over to one of the dead, lying face downward in the mud. Grasping the body by the shoulders, he turned it viciously on its back. It was clothed in the uniform of a Boche captain.
Jimmy peered down at the ghastly, black-bearded face. The dead man's eyes, wide open, stared malignantly up at him.
"The tiger man!" burst from his amazed lips.
At the cry, Voissard sprang to his side. Together the three men stood looking down for an instant at that glassy-eyed, wicked face.