Finally the rear guard turned up. Long before the last of the artillery train had passed by the boys had seen that some of the batteries left the road a little further on, making for certain advantageous points where they could commence to hurl their death-dealing projectiles with profit.
“Shall we go on again?” asked Amos.
“Yes, because where we happen to be just now the land is low and flat, and we can see absolutely nothing,” replied Jack.
“I really believe you’re still hankering to glimpse the fighting,” Amos ventured to say.
“I think I know of a good chance,” the other told him, “and to begin with we’ll leave the road right here. Follow me, Amos.”
Of course Amos did, for he placed the greatest confidence in his chum’s judgment.
“Things seem to be going on hotter than ever all along the line,” he was saying as he kept alongside the other.
“It’s going to be a terrible day, and the surgeons of the Red Cross will be kept busy every minute of the time,” Jack remarked, as they hurried along.
Amos had noticed that they were not passing over the fields where the onrushing British reserves had crossed, since Jack had for some reason chosen the other side of the road.
As yet Amos had not guessed what his chum had in view, and when his curiosity had reached a certain pitch he could hold in no longer.