It was just this command that the German privates needed, and it seemed to galvanize them into action. The four, who of those on the raft alone seemed to be unwounded, sprang at Jimmy and Roger. But one missed his footing and fell heavily. This left only three, and two of them sprang at Jimmy.
But once more luck was with the Khaki Boys. With a flash of inspiration, Roger, as he saw his antagonist coming at him, reached in his back trousers pocket and pulled out a small nickle oil-can that he used on his rifle. Holding it out, as though it were a revolver, Roger pointed it at the German's head. In an instant the man's hands went up, and he cried:
"Kamerad!"
Pausing not an instant in his actions, Roger dashed his fist, oil can and all straight into the man's face, knocking him off the raft and into the river.
"Now I can help you, Jimmy!" cried Roger, and he sprang to the assistance of his chum. And sorely did Jimmy need help, for the two Germans had almost overpowered him in their endeavor to thrust him off the raft.
With desperate energy Roger and Jimmy fought the two, and for a few seconds hard blows were given and taken on both sides. The wounded officer shouted encouragement to his men, but the desperate plight of Roger and Jimmy made them fight to such good end that in a few minutes they had forced their assailants overboard.
The man who had fallen seemed to have either broken or badly strained his leg. He was groaning and unable to rise, and this left no able-bodied Germans to attack Jimmy and Roger. They were satisfied that none in the party of Huns was armed, and so they had the situation well in hand.
"Well, this is a little better than being on the rock—after we've got things our own way," declared Jimmy, as he began to get his breath back.
"What's to be done now?" asked Roger, while the wounded officer glared at them.
Jimmy looked down the foaming river. They were in a wider and deeper part now, and the raft was swinging in toward shore.