"The wind isn't right for a gas attack," murmured Roger, as he temporarily deprived himself of this necessary protection.
As the boys feverishly worked to uncover the form they heard another loud groan coming from beneath the dirt.
"It doesn't seem possible anyone can be alive—like this," panted
Roger as he labored at a heavy stone.
"Don't talk—work!" snapped Jimmy. "If he's alive, whoever it is, he needs help quick."
"Wonder if it's Iggy?" went on Roger.
Jimmy's hands flew as do the legs of a dog when he is digging out a buried bone, nor was Roger behind his comrade. They labored at that part of the pile of earth and stones which covered the face and head of the unfortunate soldier.
"There—he can breathe if he's alive still!" gasped Jimmy as he straightened up after having lifted aside a board that had fallen over the face of the Sammie they were trying to rescue. And it was this board that undoubtedly saved the unfortunate from dying by suffocation.
For the piece of plank had fallen in such a way, being supported on either end by resting on two stones on either side of the man's head, that it kept the dirt and stones away from the face.
And that it was a face which they had uncovered, was not at all certain to Roger and Jimmy at first. For so covered with blood, streaks of dirt and powder stains was the countenance that it resembled nothing human.
"He's alive—whoever he is!" declared Jimmy, for the unfortunate was observed to breathe—and breathe deeply as the air came in more abundantly to the parted lips.