He rushed to a place where, through a crisscross of beams and planks, he could see daylight. Yet, though there were openings, none of them was large enough to permit the passage of the smallest of the five Brothers. And the wooden beams and planks were all of extraordinary thickness.
"We're trapped! Trapped! And the fire coming nearer!" half sobbed Bob.
And then he saw through the crisscross of beams, coming toward the burning mill, a man who seemed to be an American officer. And yet he wore no such uniform as Bob had ever seen before.
"Steady, boys!" cried this strange rescuer, as he glimpsed them. "I'll soon have you out! Wait! Don't bring the ruins down on top of you!"
CHAPTER XII
MUCH WONDERING
Through the splintered and tangled crisscross of beams, planks and boards which barred their way to freedom, as some iron grill or lattice work might have kept in some ancient prisoner, the Khaki Boys looked at the man who had shouted to them; the man who had said he would rescue them. And he spoke with a calmness and confidence that was in strange contrast to the scene of terror, noise and confusion which was behind the boys—a danger that was ever coming nearer as the fire, started by the exploding shell, ate its way into the dry timber of the old mill, and menaced the five imprisoned Brothers.
"Who is he?" murmured Bob.
"And where did he come from!" inquired Roger.
"Is he an American or German?" was the question Jimmy asked, and he peered out through a space between two big beams that had fallen and crossed when the mill collapsed.