[CHAPTER VIII]
STARTLING INFORMATION
Conviction that Franz was in dire straits somewhere became almost certainty with Jimmy and his three chums as the days went by. But where, they did not know. A careful search had failed to reveal his body, and he was not among the wounded brought back to the hospitals.
But no inquiry could disclose where he was in case the Germans had him a prisoner. Jimmy told his chums that. And there was no positive proof that he was not killed. For many bodies were in such a state as to be unrecognizable, and from some even the identification disk was missing.
"Poor Franz!" sighed Bob, as the four talked it over together in the trenches or in some dugout, for they found several that the Germans had been forced to abandon. "It's just his luck to be captured again."
"Well, let's hope that he has that luck," suggested Roger. "Of course, it's tough luck, all right, but being captured, even by a Hun is some better than being killed. There's a chance if you're a prisoner—always a chance of escaping. But there's no escape from death. Of course, I know that to be in some of the prison camps is almost worse than death. But let's hope for the best."
"The worst of it is we can't do anything!" complained Bob. "That's what gets me—having to sit here and let him suffer maybe."
"It is hard," agreed Jimmy. "But we aren't doing much sitting around. There's too much else to be done. I've got to go out on listening post soon."
"I'm down for sentry go," added Roger.
"I a letter will write to mine mothar!" decided Iggy. "I from being up by de front door haf been, so I get a vacation."
"You're entitled to it," declared Jimmy. For the Polish lad had been assigned to a trench where German snipers were active, and more than one American had lost his life by the incautious exposure of just the top of his head. Iggy had had the luck to spot one of these pests, and had brought down the Hun, thereby winning the gratitude of his comrades.