"Are you all right?" asked Jimmy.
"Yes, except for a crack on the head that made me see stars for a minute."
"Stars!" cried Bob. "We'd be well off if we could see comets now. It's as dark as a bucket of tar in here. What happened, anyhow? I believe we must be under tons of earth and rocks."
"I guess we are," said Jimmy, and his voice had a solemn note in it. "We must be buried alive, as you said. The Huns must have dropped a bomb from an aeroplane straight on the location of this dugout, which, of course, they knew. Or else they've got the range with one of their big guns. But wait, I can flash my glim now. We'll soon see what the trouble is."
"Has anyone heard a peep out of Iggy?" asked Roger. "Of course we can't see one another, but we can hear. I say, Iggy, are you all right?" he called, and by his voice it would seem that Roger was not much hurt.
There was silence for a moment, and then the tones of the Polish lad were heard. Iggy said:
"I dunno if I am here, or by a deadness alretty. Only I haf a much pains in my foot. Maybe he is cracked!"
"Let us hope not!" said Jimmy, as he switched on his pocket flashlight. "Oh, I see him!" he cried. "You are under a heap of dirt and sandbags, Iggy. We'll soon have you out."
As Jimmy flashed the light, Bob and Franz began digging with their hands. They very quickly freed Roger. It was soon evident that Iggy, also, could be freed; but when this was accomplished his head sank back limply and his eyes closed.
"He must be worse hurt than we think," said Franz solemnly. "Is there any way out of this hole?"