“Just what do you mean by that?” asked the other, curiously.
“Stop and think how much risk hangs over a landing on the rocky peninsula, when sharp-eyed Turkish soldiers are on guard everywhere by tens of thousands, and all sorts of barbed wire entanglements have been set to trap the unwary. These landings are mighty dangerous affairs at the best, I understand.”
“They must be,” Amos admitted readily enough, “when any minute you may find yourself made a target for a quick-firer that shoots bullets as fast as you can wink, and cuts men down like ripe grain. But the darkness is in our favor, Jack.”
“Yes, and in spite of the danger some thousands of British soldiers and Territorials are ashore right now, ready to fight to the last gasp so as to hold the bit of enemy land they are squatted on. When the sun comes up I count on being with them.”
“And then we may know if Frank is there or not,” added Amos, fervently, for that one consideration was ever foremost in his mind.
The two comrades had been seeking the missing one so long now, and met with so many disappointments just when success seemed within their grasp, that Amos could hardly be blamed for feeling terribly despondent at times.
That was where having a cheery chum came in, for Jack had buoyed his spirits up many a time when Amos felt that the outlook was “as blue as indigo.”
As the afternoon wore away and the sun sank to rest, the boys took note of the fact that all signs seemed to promise a good day on the morrow. This counted for considerable with them; for according to all reports there had been a season of fogs and even storms recently that had held up the work of reducing the forts defending the waterway to Constantinople.
“In spite of the stars we’ll have overhead,” said Jack, “I think the night will be a dark one.”
“All the better for our landing, I should say,” was Amos’ comment.