"No use!" exclaimed Jimmy, and there was a rather despairing tone in his voice. "We've got to go back."
"And try the left?" asked Roger.
"Yes. It's our only chance. If they fire at us from that side——" He did not complete the sentence, but Roger well knew what his chum meant.
Back they crawled, being fired at again, and when they were comparatively safe, at least for the time being, in the clump of trees, the two Khaki Boys looked at each other.
"They're German snipers all right," declared Jimmy.
"Sure thing," asserted Roger. "Probably the fellows that yelled 'Kamerad!' and beat it when we came up toward their machine gun have got a lot more Boches and are going to try to take us prisoners."
That view of it was also Jimmy's, and he said as much, adding, however:
"They don't make a prisoner of me as long as I've got a shot left!"
"What are you going to do now?" asked Roger, as he saw Sergeant Jimmy loosen his belt a couple of holes. "Going to leave some of your stuff here?"
"Indeed not!" Jimmy quickly answered. "We need every thing we have on, though it's a load to carry. Can't take a chance and leave off even the gas masks. There's no telling when the Huns may take a notion to drop a gas shell in these woods, and there's not enough wind to carry the fumes away. No, indeed, we can't take any chances. I'm just going to make myself a little more comfortable. It's hard enough to carry all this outfit around when you're standing up, but it's worse when you're crawling. But perhaps a loose belt will help some."