"Split!" suggested Bob.
"Yas. Him it was. You say you split him—that moany, Jimmy, and if I could to my mothar send what you say you give me—maybe she of need have for him now."
Jimmy looked queerly at his chums. Truth to tell he had scarcely any cash at present, and to give Iggy his share of the five thousand francs—about two hundred dollars—was out of the question.
Bob took the financial bull by the horns.
"Look here, Iggy," he said. "Jimmy has played hard luck. He had that money but—"
"Doan't tell me he is loss!" cried Iggy. "Oh, doan't tell me he is loss! I so much think of that two hundred dollars—mine fader or mine mothar never so much have at once see in all their lives. Two hundred dollar—Oh if he is loss—"
"It's only lost for a while—temporarily," said Jimmy. "I wasn't going to tell you, but Bob spilled the beans, I left the cash with Sergeant Maxwell to keep for me, and the sergeant is missing with the dough. But as soon as I get my money from home you'll get your share—the two hundred bucks, Iggy, and so will the others."
"Nonsense! Forget it!" cried Roger. "Do you think—"
But he had a chance for no more, for at that moment came the signal that the Huns had launched a gas attack. Instantly the five Brothers, and all up and down the line the other Americans, donned their gas masks. This was but the preliminary to what turned out to be some of the fiercest fighting of that particular series of battles. The Germans followed up the gas attack with a fierce deluge of shells and shrapnel, and half an hour later our heroes were under heavy fire.
"It's an attack in force!" cried a lieutenant as he hurried along the trench where the Khaki Boys were stationed. "And the word is, stand where you are! Don't give back an inch!"