"That's funny!" said one of Jimmy's men. "I thought the main fighting was over to our left. Now they tell us to go to our right."
"Well, we'll take a chance," said Jimmy.
He turned and was about to lead his small command in that direction when they were subjected to a fierce burst of fire. There was no time to drop and escape it, though Jimmy called to the men to lie flat as soon as he realized that a machine gun was aimed in their direction. For two of his men there was never any more need of orders. They were instantly killed, and one was so wounded that he could not move. This only left Jimmy and two men. But the sergeant had no thought of turning back.
"Will you stick?" he asked, when the sudden spurt of machine bullets was over.
"Go ahead!" was the grim reply.
They had hardly taken a dozen paces when from the ground all about them dark forms suddenly arose, and from what were afterward found to be shell holes, and the remains of trenches, other forms leaped. There were commands in German, and, in less time than it takes to tell it, Jimmy and his two companions were seized by several German soldiers, their arms taken away, and, after being beaten and kicked, they were rushed over toward the Hun lines. Dazed, wounded and sick at heart, Jimmy could hardly understand what had happened. Then it was borne to him that he and his rescue party—or what was left of it—had been the victim of a trick. They had run into an ambuscade of Germans who were hidden among the holes and ruined trenches, and had risen up to capture more prisoners.
Rousing himself, and determining to find out how many of his fellow soldiers were in the same disastrous position as himself, Jimmy cried:
"Any of the Five Hundred and Ninth here? I'm Sergeant Blaise and—"
"Great guns!" cried a voice Jimmy well knew. "It's Blazes! We're here, Jimmy!" went on the voice in a half sob. "Bob and I are here—prisoners!"
"Then we're in the same boat!" answered Jimmy, who had recognized
Roger's voice. "I'll try and get to you, and then—"