Commandos Never Quit!
For a fleeting instant Dave's head was full of spinning colored lights, and his lungs were full of searing white flame. But the lights and the fire were gone as quickly as they had come. He rolled off the heap made by von Staube and von Gault, and breathed a little crazy prayer of relief that in spilling down he hadn't driven home his Commando knife. Quite unconsciously he must have twisted his hand so that the point of the knife was no longer at the German's back. And in the next instant he realized that Freddy Farmer had likewise been fortunate. Von Staube was still in a faint, and von Gault was rigid with fear, and gasping for knocked out wind. But neither of them was dead.
"Blast!" Freddy almost sobbed. "It was so close, too! I—"
"Shut up!" Dave told him. "It's still close. Grab your guy by the collar, and drag him along. The deeper we get into these trees, the better. I got an idea."
"What...?"
"Save it!" Dave cut his pal off again. "Just grab hold and heave-ho! Those tramps are only shooting at shadows so far. They don't know which direction we took. We can make tracks while there's still time. Deeper into the woods, Freddy."
Though his prisoner was still gasping and choking, that didn't bother Dave in the least. He hooked the fingers of his right hand in von Gault's tunic collar and then hauled the German over the ground and deeper into the strip of woods. Freddy and he had traveled no more than fifty yards when suddenly the English youth lost his footing and went tumbling with his prisoner down into a partially grown over shell crater made in the first year of the war. Dave stopped just in time, and felt like letting out a shout of joy. The gods had laughed, but they were being a little kind to Freddy and him now. Dave slid down into the shell crater, hauling von Gault along with him. By the time he reached the bottom where Freddy was wiggling out from under the unconscious von Staube, von Gault was past the moaning complaint stage. He was having all he could do to get a little air into his lungs and get it out again.
"Nice going, Freddy!" Dave cried softly. "Just what the doctor ordered. Couldn't find a better hide-out than right down here. Now—"
"But, Dave, we've—"
"Pipe down!" Dawson whispered. "Listen! We haven't a chance to reach that Dornier with all these birds tearing about. We'd be bound to stumble into them. These two chumps, their condition, would be a dead give-away. And—and, Freddy, the killing stuff is out, until there isn't a single hope left."