"Lie down where you are! Some one will come for you presently. We've got 'em on the run, but they may sweep this place with machine guns again. Lie still where you are!"
Jimmy had sense enough to obey, and presently he became aware of the fact that the firing in his immediate neighborhood was growing less. In a few minutes it seemed to die away altogether, and it was not long after that before two men came along with a stretcher.
"Here's a live one!" the leader cried, as he caught sight of Jimmy, who cautiously raised his head.
"Hurt much?" the second stretcher bearer asked.
"Don't know," was Jimmy's laconic answer. "Wait until I stand up and see."
But as soon as he tried to get on his feet he felt so weak and dizzy that he would have fallen had not one of the men caught him.
"I guess it's a first-aid station for yours, old man," was the grim comment. And Jimmy shut his eyes.
When he opened them again it was to find himself lying on a sort of table, with a doctor bending over him.
"How do you feel?" asked the surgeon.
"Oh, sort of—sort of——" remarked Jimmy weakly.