He made a long leap forward, bringing the gun-butt down directly on the head of the German.—Page [98].

Dave Porter Series

DAVE PORTER’S WAR
HONORS

OR
AT THE FRONT WITH THE FIGHTING
ENGINEERS

BY
EDWARD STRATEMEYER
Author of “Dave Porter at Oak Hall,” “Old Glory Series,”
“Colonial Series,” “Lakeport Series,” etc.

ILLUSTRATED BY R. EMMETT OWEN

BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.

Published, April, 1919
Copyright, 1919,
By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.

All rights reserved

DAVE PORTER’S WAR HONORS
Norwood Press
BERWICK & SMITH CO.
NORWOOD, MASS.
U. S. A.

PREFACE

“Dave Porter’s War Honors” is a complete story in itself, but forms the fifteenth volume in a line issued under the general title, “Dave Porter Series.”

As my old readers know, this line was begun years ago by the publication of “Dave Porter at Oak Hall,” in which I introduced a wide-awake American boy at a typical American boarding-school. This was followed by “Dave Porter in the South Seas,” and then by “Dave Porter’s Return to School.” After that we had “Dave Porter in the Far North,” where the lad went on a long journey looking for his father; “Dave Porter and His Classmates,” in which the hero was put to a most severe test; and then by “Dave Porter at Star Ranch,” where a number of strenuous adventures befell him.

Leaving the West, Dave returned again to school, as related in “Dave Porter and His Rivals.” Then came a remarkable voyage, as narrated in “Dave Porter on Cave Island”; following which he taught some of his school friends a much-needed lesson, the particulars of which were set forth in “Dave Porter and the Runaways.”

It was not long after this that we again found our hero in the West, as related in “Dave Porter in the Gold Fields,” where he helped to relocate a lost mine. Coming back, he put in a grand vacation in the Adirondack Mountains, many of the particulars of which are told in “Dave Porter at Bear Camp.”

Graduating from school, our hero took up the study of civil engineering. This at first took him to the Mexican Border, as related in “Dave Porter and His Double,” and then out to Montana, as we learn in “Dave Porter’s Great Search.”

The great war in Europe was now on, and the entrance of our country into the contest caused Dave to become an army engineer. He went to France and there had some decidedly strenuous adventures, as told in “Dave Porter Under Fire.”

In the present volume Dave is still with the “fighting engineers” on the war-scarred battle-fields of France. His adventures are thrilling in the extreme, but no more so than have fallen to the lot of many a young American in this epoch-making conflict.

Again I thank my many readers for the interest they have shown in my books; and I trust that the reading of the present volume will inspire all with an added love for our country.

Edward Stratemeyer.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

DAVE PORTER’S WAR HONORS

CHAPTER I
NEAR THE FIGHTING FRONT

“Phil, where is Roger?”

“I don’t know, Dave. I haven’t seen him for the last quarter of an hour.”

“You don’t suppose he got lost somewhere in that gully we crossed?” continued Dave Porter, with an anxious look on his bronzed face.

“It wouldn’t be surprising, Dave,” answered Phil Lawrence. “I almost got lost myself, the tangle of underbrush was so thick.”

“Yes, and don’t forget that we had to hide once or twice when the Boches sent over those big shells,” broke in another member of the engineering party, that was working its way through some scrub timber not a great distance back of the American fighting front in France.

“I’m not forgetting that,” answered Dave grimly.

He well remembered how he had heard the whining of a shell, had dropped down into a shell crater, and then heard the missile explode some distance away. His left shin had been barked, and likewise his shoulder, but to these small hurts he was just then paying no attention.

“We might set up a call for him,” said another of the army engineers, a rather stout individual.

“No, don’t do that, Buster!” cried Dave hastily. “Some of those Boches may be closer than we imagine. I heard a report from somebody yesterday that they thought the Germans had some machine-gun nests in the upper end of this wood.”

“Say, talking about machine-guns puts me in mind of a story I heard last night,” broke in a tall, lanky-appearing engineer. “Two men of a gun company had a—”

“For the love of beans, Shadow! don’t start to tell a story now,” broke in Phil Lawrence. “Keep those for to-night, when we get back to our shelter.”

“It wasn’t a very long story,” grumbled the would-be story-teller. “However, it will keep,” he added resignedly. “But say! it sure is funny about Roger. The last I saw of him he was crossing that gully about a hundred feet away from where I was.”

“You saw him go down, I suppose, Shadow,” remarked Dave. “But did you see him come up?”

“I did not. I was busy looking out for myself. I was afraid the minute I showed myself some sharpshooter or machine-gun crowd would fire on me.”

“It’s too bad we couldn’t go forward and finish that road we started,” said another of the young engineers, Ben Basswood. “I don’t understand it at all.”

“Well, orders are orders, Ben; and they must be obeyed,” answered Dave, with a smile. He was now a sergeant and in command of the detail which was making its way through that section of the wood on the American front.

“Oh, I know that!” responded Dave’s former school chum quickly. “I suppose there must be a good reason for stopping the work. By the way, it looks to me as if a storm was coming up.”

“Gee! we’ve had nothing but storms lately,” grumbled Phil Lawrence. “At least five in the last two weeks! You’d think there wouldn’t be any more water left in the sky.”

Over to the eastward a heavy mass of clouds had appeared. There had been but little wind, but now the leaves began to stir, and then a breeze sprang up, while the heavens began to grow dark rapidly. Far off to the north there had been a constant booming of heavy artillery, punctuated occasionally by the rattle of smaller firearms. Now the booming of the cannon on the German, front commenced to extend southward.

“Say, that sounds as if we might get in the direct line of fire before long!” cried Phil.

“Perhaps that’s the reason we were ordered to go back,” answered Dave. “Come, boys, we’ll have to hurry a bit. Hike up.”

The young civil engineers were well loaded down, not only with full soldier kits, including guns, but also with various tools, including picks, shovels and axes. Consequently, to “hike up” over the uneven ground and through the scrub timber and rank undergrowth was by no means easy.

“This traveling sure does get a fellow’s wind,” grumbled Buster, as he stopped for a moment to catch his breath and run the perspiration from his forehead with the side of his finger. “Talk about exercise—this beats anything I ever did in the Oak Hall gym.”

“Wow! wouldn’t old Oak Hall look good to us now?” cried Shadow, his eyes shining. “Think of that comfortable mess-hall, with those beautiful tables all set with clean linen and chinaware, and the smoking hot meat, not to say anything about the mashed potatoes, green corn, lima beans, and that beautiful pie, and—”

“Say! if you keep on talking that way, I’ll drown you in the first shell-hole full of water we come to!” burst out Phil. “I’m hungry enough now without your making me worse.”

“Never mind, boys, I guess there will be a good hot mulligan waiting for us when we get to camp,” said Dave, with a grin.

The detail of which Dave Porter was in command consisted of twelve army engineers. The majority of them were young men, four of whom were Dave’s personal friends and old school chums. All had been tramping through the wood for the best part of an hour, trying to reach their headquarters, located among some hills farther to the southward.

“Say, Dave, did Roger tell you anything about his gas mask?” questioned Phil, while the two were walking side by side, with the others behind.

“He told me yesterday that he didn’t think it was in very good working order,” was the reply. “He said he wanted to have it fixed when he got back to camp.”

“Well, he tried to fix it himself this morning, and in doing it broke the mouthpiece.”

“Didn’t he get it fixed at all?” questioned the young sergeant of the engineer quickly.

“I don’t think he did. He didn’t have time.”

“That’s too bad! He ought to have taken time. It’s dangerous to be out in this neighborhood without a mask that is in good working order.”

“That’s what I told him. But he said he guessed it would be all right.”

The young civil engineers now reached a portion of the wood where the ground was very uneven and interspersed with many jagged rocks. Here, in some places, the shell-fire of a former battle had thrown up the ground and the growth in violent fashion, so that they were often at a loss how to progress. Once Dave stepped into some undergrowth and went down into a hole up to his knees, and a moment later came a stifled cry from Buster Beggs.

“Hello! there goes Buster!” cried Shadow.

“Where did he go?” questioned Dave, turning around.

“Slid off through those bushes on the left.”

“Help me! Somebody pull me out, or I’ll drown!” called the hapless engineer.

Working their way through the bushes, the others saw Buster floundering around in a shell crater which was about ten feet in diameter and of unknown depth. It was almost filled with dirty water, and in this the young engineer was struggling, the load on his back dragging him downward.

Standing on the edge of the shell-hole, Dave extended the stock of his gun, and Phil did likewise, and, grasping both of these, Buster was dragged to the edge of the hole, and then willing hands assisted him once more to his feet.

“What’s the matter, Buster? Didn’t you see the hole?” questioned Dave.

“I did, when it was too late,” was the answer. “The ground on that side is all wet and slippery, and I went down on it like on a toboggan-slide. Say! I’m some wet and muddy, eh?” and he looked at himself dolefully.

“Never mind. You’ll not mind the storm that is coming up,” remarked Dave. “Unless I miss my guess, we’ll all be soaked to the skin in a few minutes.”

To the rumble of the distant guns was now added the rumble of thunder. Then came several sharp flashes of lightning, and the wind came rushing through the wood.

“It’s coming, all right enough!” cried Phil.

“Come! Hike up and follow me!” cried Dave. “I think I know where we can get a little shelter if it becomes too bad.”

Carrying their heavy packs and engineering implements as best they could, the engineers hurried along through the wood at Dave’s heels. The young sergeant was headed for a small hill, to one side of which was something of a cliff that he thought might offer at least slight protection from the on-coming storm. He had visited the cliff some days before, and had noticed that there was more or less of a hollow beneath it, a hollow screened by a number of trees and some dense underbrush.

As they advanced, Dave could not but think of his chum, Roger Morr.

“He should have kept close to us,” said Dave to Ben. “There is no use in taking chances by straying away in such a dangerous locality as this.”

“Maybe Roger was hit by a stray bullet and we never knew it,” was the reply. “You know every once in a while some poor fellow is knocked out that way.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Ben!” answered Dave, and then he became exceedingly thoughtful. Roger was engaged to Dave’s sister, and what would Laura say if the young civil engineer should be thus laid low?

The engineers came in sight of the cliff just as the first big drops of the on-coming storm came beating down on the leaves. Without hesitation, Dave led the way through some heavy underbrush until the foot of the cliff was gained.

“Well, this is some shelter, but not a great deal,” remarked Shadow.

“Better than being out there in the open,” returned Buster.

He had scarcely spoken when there came a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a deafening crash of thunder. Then came another crash not a great distance away.

“Gee! that lightning struck a tree pretty close to us!” gasped one of the engineers.

“There it is—right up on the top of the cliff!” exclaimed Phil.

“Look out! It’s coming down!” announced Dave. “Come in close to the rocks, all of you!”

The engineers did as directed, and a moment later they heard the big tree rolling and crashing through the underbrush some distance away. Then came another crash of thunder, followed by a tremendous downpour of rain.

Keeping close to the foot of the cliff, Dave and the others of his party began to search around among the rocks. Presently one of the young fellows set up a shout.

“Here is an opening! I don’t know how deep it is, but it looks to be pretty roomy.”

Dave carried a pocket flashlight with him, and this was turned on to dispel the gloom, for the sky was now completely overcast, and under the cliff it was quite dark.

“It’s a regular cave,” announced the young sergeant, after a hasty examination. “Here, Phil, give me your hand and I will let myself down and look around.”

The opening under the cliff proved to be amply large to shelter all of them, and the army engineers were glad enough to get into it and relieve themselves of their packs. Then they sat down to rest and to talk over the situation.

“I’d feel a good deal better if Roger were with us,” remarked Dave to Phil, as he and his old school chum peered forth from the opening of the cave-like shelter.

“You’ve said it, Dave!” was the low reply. “Gee! if anything happened to Roger—” Phil did not finish, but shook his head gravely.

“I’m going out to look for him just as soon as the storm lets up.”

“You’ll let me go along, won’t you, Dave?” questioned the other quickly. Phil himself was only a corporal, so he must obey any order from a superior.

“Of course,” was the ready response.

The engineers had emergency rations with them, and they lost no time in satisfying their hunger as best they could, building a small fire for the purpose of making some hot chocolate and drying out Buster’s water-soaked garments.

The rather scanty meal finished, Dave, followed by Phil, crawled out of the shelter and walked forward to where the base of the cliff came to an end. Here they could still hear the booming of the distant artillery.

“Looks to me as if the storm was letting up,” remarked Phil. “And the wind is dying down, too.”

To this remark Dave made no answer. He was listening intently, and now to hear better he placed his hand to his ear.

“What do you hear?” questioned Phil, after a moment of silence.

“Listen for yourself, Phil.”

The other young engineer did so, and then a look of alarm came into his face.

“Is that a gas attack warning, Dave?”

“That’s just what it is, Phil! The Germans must be launching such an attack!”

“That’s bad!”

“Notify the others at once, Phil. Tell the men I want them to take no chances, but get their masks on and keep them on until they are dead sure it is perfectly safe to take them off.”

“But what are you going to do?”

“I’m going out to look for Roger. If he’s lost in the woods, or if he’s been wounded and is without a mask that will work, he’s in danger of his life.”

“But you said I could go along!”

“All right, then, follow me. But warn all the others first,” answered Dave; and then hurried off through the rain-soaked wood on the hunt for his missing chum.

CHAPTER II
THE GAS ATTACK

“I’ve got to find Roger—I’ve got to do it!”

Such were the words that Dave murmured to himself as he dashed away from Phil’s side, making off in the direction where he had last seen Roger Morr. As he advanced he adjusted his gas mask, knowing that it would be foolhardy to move along without it, even though it somewhat impeded his breathing.

Dave was filled with a great fear for the welfare of the lad who had been his chum for so many years and who just before leaving home had become engaged to his sister.

“If he’s all right, he’ll know how to make use of his gas mask, even if the mouthpiece is broken,” he reasoned to himself. “But if he’s badly wounded, or is unconscious, he won’t be able to save himself when the gas reaches him. Oh, I’ve got to find him—I’ve just got to!”

To those of my readers who have perused one or more of the former volumes in this series, Dave Porter will need no introduction. For the benefit, however, of those who are now meeting Dave for the first time, let me state a few facts concerning his boyhood and the years immediately following.

When a very small lad Dave had been found wandering alongside the railroad tracks in Crumville in one of our eastern States. No one came forward to claim him, and he was put in the local poorhouse and later on bound out to a one-time college professor, Caspar Potts, who was then farming for his health.

In a fine mansion on the outskirts of Crumville dwelt Mr. Oliver Wadsworth, a wealthy jewelry manufacturer, with his wife and his daughter Jessie. One day the gasoline tank of an automobile took fire, and little Jessie was in danger of being burned to death when Dave, who chanced to be near, rushed to her rescue. Because of this brave act, the rich jewelry manufacturer became interested in the boy and decided that he should be given the benefit of a good education.

The lad was sent to a first-class boarding-school, as related in the first volume of this series, entitled, “Dave Porter at Oak Hall.” With Dave went Ben Basswood, his one friend in the town.

At Oak Hall, Dave made a host of friends, including Roger Morr, the son of a well-known United States senator; Phil Lawrence, whose father was a rich shipowner; Maurice Hamilton, who loved to tell stories and who was generally known as “Shadow” because of his thinness: and Buster Beggs, who was as stout as he was good-natured.

It can be easily understood that in those days the principal thing that troubled Dave was the question of his parentage. Some mean schoolboys called him a “poorhouse nobody”; and to solve the mystery of his identity he took a long voyage, as related in “Dave Porter in the South Seas.” He met his uncle, Dunston Porter, and learned much concerning his father, David Breslow Porter, and also his sister Laura, who were at that time traveling in Europe.

After his trip to the South Seas, Dave returned for a while to school, but then went to the Far North and succeeded in locating his father.

In the meantime, Dave’s sister had gone to the West, to visit her intimate friend, Belle Endicott, who lived on Star Ranch in Montana. Later still, Laura, Dave and some of his chums visited the ranch and there had “the time of their lives,” as they afterward declared.

Coming back from the West, Dave supposed that matters would flow along smoothly, but such was not the case. At Christmas time came a startling robbery of the Wadsworth jewelry works, and Dave and his chums discovered that the crime had been committed by two of the former bullies of Oak Hall. After a voyage to Cave Island one of the rascals was captured and the stolen goods recovered.

The trip to Cave Island was later on followed by another to the great West, where Dave aided Roger Morr in relocating a gold mine which had been inherited by Mrs. Morr and lost through a landslide.

After this our hero went to Bear Camp in the Adirondack Mountains. There he had a most unusual experience, falling in with a young man who was almost his double in appearance.

Dave had now graduated from Oak Hall, and he and Roger Morr had taken up the profession of civil engineering. This work at first took them to Texas, and then to the wilds of Montana. They had positions with the Mentor Construction Company, and their camp was under the general management of Mr. Ralph Obray, assisted by a number of others, including a middle-aged engineer, Frank Andrews, who speedily became a warm friend of the youths.

It was a great day for the young civil engineers when they set sail for Central America to assist in the work of building a railroad in Costa Rica. This was at the time when the World War was in progress in Europe, but before the United States had entered the conflict. They were in the midst of some exciting happenings in the Central American republic when word came that the United States had joined with the Allies “to make the world safe for democracy.”

“Roger, how would you like to become an army engineer?” Dave had asked of his chum. And then he had spoken of how the United States Government would probably need hundreds of army engineers to assist the soldiers in their battles with the Central Powers.

Mr. Ralph Obray had once been a major in the State militia, and on returning to the United States he became a captain of a unit of the engineers raised by the Engineering Society. He was very anxious to have Dave and Roger join this unit, and after consulting with their folks, the two young civil engineers were sworn into the service. With them went Ben Basswood, and also Phil Lawrence, Shadow Hamilton, and Buster Beggs.

Before the boys left home to go to Camp Hickory, as the cantonment was called, several interesting events took place. As my old readers know, to Dave there was no girl in the world quite so nice as Jessie Wadsworth, and the pair had a very definite understanding regarding what they intended to do when Dave returned from the war.

Roger had always been very attentive to Laura Porter, and just before leaving for camp their engagement was announced.

On his first trip to Star Ranch, Phil Lawrence had become enamored of Belle Endicott, and the happiness of his chums made him exceedingly anxious regarding his own future. He sent an earnest telegram to Belle; and a little later met that young lady in New York City and there got her to promise something which was in every degree highly satisfactory to the shipowner’s son.

From Camp Hickory the young civil engineers entrained for an American port, and there went aboard one of the big army transports, as related in the last volume of this series, entitled, “Dave Porter Under Fire.”

This transport was attacked by two submarines, but escaped injury, and a little later the young soldiers found themselves on French soil. Here they went into intensive training for a number of weeks and were then sent to the front.

While in the training camp at home Dave and the others had made the acquaintance of a French widow, who had suffered much because of the war and because of the doings of a German spy, named Rudolph Holtzmann. The poor widow’s two children had been lost during the first upheaval of war in Alsace-Lorraine, and to add to her misery she was later on robbed by the spy, who had been boarding with her.

All the “fighting engineers,” as they were affectionately termed, had had some strenuous adventures during those first few weeks on the firing line. They had been set to building roadways and bridges, and had been under fire on more than one occasion. Then, during a brief respite in their work, Dave had gotten word concerning Rudolph Holtzmann, and, with the aid of the French authorities, had succeeded in cornering this rascal and had discovered the whereabouts of the Widow Carot’s missing children.

Dave, Roger, and Phil had been cited in the orders of the day for bravery, and a little later Dave had been made a sergeant of the engineers, while Roger and Phil became corporals.

“You’re getting up in the world, Dave,” had been Roger’s comment. “First thing you know, you’ll be a lieutenant or a captain.”

“Time enough for that, Roger,” Dave answered. “I think you’ve got just as good a chance as I have. In fact, I can’t understand why they didn’t make you and Phil sergeants as well as myself.”

“Oh, we didn’t do as much as you did,” the senator’s son had answered. “You always were a natural-born leader.”

“Oh, cut it, Roger!” Dave had cried. Nevertheless, he knew that his chum was sincere in what he said, and he was correspondingly pleased. At heart Roger was one of the best fellows in the world, and it was with intense satisfaction that Dave had learned the young man was one day to become his only sister’s husband.

And that was the reason why, as he dashed through the rain-soaked wood, Dave told himself that he must find Roger, no matter at what cost. He felt that if he failed in this his sister would never forgive him, and, for the matter of that, he would never forgive himself.

He ploughed forward through the soaked underbrush and scrambled over the rough rocks as best he could. Then, as looking through the mask was difficult, he took a deep breath, and, holding it, took the mask off for a moment to gaze around him anxiously. But no human being was in sight, and, readjusting his mask, he went forward once again. Glancing backward, he saw that Phil was swiftly following him.

Off to the north of where he had been walking there had been at one time something of a woods’ trail, used probably by the farmers of that vicinity. This was much torn up, with shell craters dotting it at short distances. As Dave came closer to this abandoned trail he caught sight of something which caused him to stop in wonder. There, sheltered by some rocks and a mass of brushwood, were a heap of unused shells, evidently for three-inch guns.

“How in the world did those shells get here?” he asked himself. “They certainly don’t belong to our artillery.”

A brief examination revealed to the young engineer that they were German shells. They had probably been left there by the Huns at the time they had tried to take the wood several weeks before. A slight advance had been made by one or two German regiments, but this had been repulsed by the American artillery.

“I’ll have to report this to headquarters as soon as I get back,” he told himself.

He was just turning away from the pile of shells when Phil came up. He pointed the pile out to his chum, and the young corporal was much surprised. He motioned to the shells and then toward the American line, but Dave shook his head and pointed toward the German line, to indicate that they must be shells left there by the enemy.

So far there was but a slight trace of gas throughout the wood, but as the two young civil engineers advanced they met a cloud of the poisonous vapor rolling toward them in a yellowish haze. Dave felt of his mask to make sure that it was properly adjusted and pointed to Phil’s, who nodded to show that he also was on his guard.

Presently the pair reached the spot where Roger had last been seen by them. They looked around in every direction, but without avail. Then Dave looked at his chum, but Phil merely shrugged his shoulders to show that he did not know what to make of the situation or what to do next.

CHAPTER III
THE FINDING OF ROGER

As the two young army engineers turned away from where they were standing to look up and down the gully which had been crossed at the time they had seen the last of their chum, they noticed that the cloud of poisonous gas was growing more dense. On every side the water-laden wood showed a thick and sickly yellow haze, the very appearance of which was enough to make one shudder.

For the time being the rain had let up. Overhead the heavy clouds were passing swiftly to the southward, but the wind seemed to be too high up to drive the poisonous gas away.

Dave and his chum traveled all of a quarter of a mile down the gully without getting any trace of Roger. Then they came back on the far side of the gully and progressed in the opposite direction.

This upper section of the wood had been under fire several times during the war, and was consequently much torn up. Shell-holes were to be met at every little distance, and here and there the dying trees lay across the underbrush.

Presently Dave clutched his chum by the arm and pointed to an opening leading down into the gully at a point which so far had not been explored. There on the ground lay a newspaper—a copy of the Stars and Stripes, the official sheet of the American Expeditionary Force in France. Both of the young civil engineers were much interested in the discovery of this newspaper, for they remembered that Roger had had a copy of the publication with him on their last trip forward. In fact, the senator’s son had read some articles aloud for the benefit of his friends.

“If this is the newspaper he was carrying, he must have come this way,” was Dave’s reasoning, and Phil was of a similar mind.

With caution, for the going was treacherous, the two young engineers made their way down the rocks and over the muddy places and through the rain-soaked underbrush toward the bottom of the gully, which, at this point, was thirty or forty feet in depth and probably twice that in width at the top. At the bottom was a tiny watercourse, gurgling over and around the jagged rocks.

Reaching the watercourse, Dave and Phil looked up and down for some trace of their missing chum. But on account of the poisonous haze, which filled the gully, it was difficult to see any considerable distance.

Dave motioned to his chum that he was going farther up the gully, and Phil nodded to show that he was willing to continue the search, even though the poisonous gas in that hollow might be highly dangerous for both of them.

They had progressed less than a hundred feet when, on coming to a momentary halt, they suddenly found several small stones rolling toward them from one side of the gully. Looking up in that direction, they discovered Roger seated on a rock and motioning to them.

The lost young engineer had his gas mask adjusted, for which both Dave and Phil were thankful. But he sat on the rock nursing his left ankle, and now they saw that he had removed his shoe and had the ankle bound with a bandage.

By looking up behind Roger it was easy to make out what had happened to him. In trying to make his way out of the gully after coming down from the other side, he had trusted his weight to some bushes near the top. They had given way, and he had come down almost to the bottom with a rush, falling and rolling over some sharp rocks as he did so. Then he showed them how his left foot had become caught between two of the rocks, and this had twisted his ankle, making it so painful that he could not use the foot.

Dave felt that the first thing for him and Phil to do was to get Roger out of the gas-choked gully. The young engineers had had not a little experience in carrying wounded men, and now this helped them to lift Roger and move him without causing the hurt ankle much additional pain. They did not attempt to get to the top of the gully at that point, but walked along the watercourse for several hundred feet, until they reached a point where egress from the hollow was comparatively easy. On the upper level all were glad to notice that the gas was considerably thinner. Here the breeze was beginning to freshen, and this was serving to dissipate the noxious chemicals. But even though the gas was becoming thinner and thinner, the young engineers knew better than to remove their masks too quickly.

Having reached the top of the gully, Dave decided to set off in the direction of the cliff where he had left the others of his detail. In order to make certain of the direction he pulled out a pocket compass for consultation. Then, more out of habit than because he wanted to know the time, he looked for his watch.

The timepiece was gone! It had disappeared along with the strap that had held it.

Dave was startled, and not without good reason, for the wrist-watch was one that had been presented to him on leaving for the front and was both handsome and valuable.

Like a flash it suddenly came to the young engineer where the watch had been dropped. He remembered now that he had looked at it when about to turn away from the pile of German shells which he had found hidden near the old wood trail. After looking at the watch he now remembered that something had struck his foot, which at the time he had thought was a stick or a stone. Now he felt sure it must have been the missing timepiece.

It would not be much out of their way to return to the vicinity of the cliff by way of the spot where the pile of shells had been discovered, and so Dave and Phil set off in that direction carrying Roger between them. The wind was now coming up strongly; and soon they felt it would be safe to remove their gas masks, and accordingly did so.

“Gosh! but I’m glad to get this off,” were Phil’s first words, after he had cautiously tested the air with his nose to discover if he could still detect the odor of gas.

Even though the mouthpiece on his mask had been broken, Roger had had little difficulty in using the outfit, and had not suffered from the poisonous attack. But his left ankle pained him not a little, and when, supported by his chums, he attempted to stand on his foot he made a decidedly wry face.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed. “Feels worse than ten thousand needles jabbing through it.”

“Don’t worry,” answered Dave kindly. “We can carry you just as well as not, can’t we, Phil?”

“Of course we can!” was the quick reply. “It will take us a little longer to reach the others, but what of that?”

“Dave, I hope you get your watch back. I know you’d hate to lose it,” said Roger, as the others prepared to pick him up once more.

“Oh, I’m almost certain I know where I dropped it,” was the young sergeant’s reply.

The booming of the heavy artillery in the distance had ceased, but now came another crash off to the southward.

“That’s thunder!” exclaimed Phil. “Looks to me as if that storm might be coming back.”

“It certainly did let down while it was at it,” remarked Roger. “I didn’t have to crawl down to the brook to soak that bandage for my ankle. All I had to do was to draw it over the bushes and grass around me and it got soaked in a minute.”

The veering of the wind once again made the atmosphere pure around them, and for this, as they drank in the fresh air, they were exceedingly thankful.

“I’ll tell you one thing—fresh air is like fresh water,” remarked Phil. “You don’t know how good both of them are until you can’t get them.”

“I can tell you I felt pretty bad down there in the gully all alone,” returned Roger. “Once or twice I tried to crawl out, but the pain in that ankle was so terrific it was too much for me. I was afraid that I might faint, and then if my mask got loose in any way it would have been all up with me.”

As they advanced Dave told of finding the pile of three-inch shells hidden in the brushwood. Roger was as much interested as Phil had been.

“Do you suppose they were put there lately, Dave?” questioned the corporal.

“I don’t believe so, Roger. I think they date back to some other time—probably some time before we were on or near this front. You know this part of France had been under fire for many months.”

The sky was growing dark again, and now came a flash of lightning at a distance, followed by a rumble of thunder. Then came more rain and several other lightning flashes, each one a little nearer than those before.

“We’re in for it, all right enough,” was Phil’s comment. “I wish we were back in the shelter of the cliff.”

“How far is that from here?” questioned Roger.

“At least a quarter of a mile,” answered Dave.

With the storm coming on again the wood grew rapidly darker, so that it was with difficulty that the young engineers picked their way through the tangle of brushwood and around the rocks and fallen trees. It was now raining steadily, and before long all were wet to the skin.

“It’s too bad I took you so far out of the way, Phil,” remarked Dave. “I suppose we might have gone on direct to the shelter of the cliff, and I could have come back to look for that watch some time later.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Dave,” was the quick reply. “We would have got wet anyhow. I want you to get your watch back first of all. It won’t do the timepiece any good to be lying out there in the wet.”

The three young engineers were still about a hundred yards away from the hidden shells when the storm seemed to burst directly over their heads with tremendous fury. There was a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a loud crack of thunder, and then off to their left they heard one of the big trees of the forest come down with a crash, carrying some small growth with it.

“Wow! that was some crack, believe me!” exclaimed Phil, after it was over.

“We can be mighty thankful we weren’t under that tree that was struck,” said Roger.

“It certainly is a heavy storm,” put in Dave; “and it seems to be growing worse every minute. Just look how dark it is becoming.”

“I hope it doesn’t get so dark you can’t see to find your watch,” said Phil.

Immediately afterward came a tremendous explosion.—Page [29].

The lightning and thunder had brought them to a temporary halt, but now they started to go forward again, the flash of lightning having left them in a darkness which was almost absolute.

“Be careful you don’t go down in some hole, Dave,” cried Phil, for the young sergeant was in advance, carrying Roger by the knees, while Phil in the rear supported their chum under his arms.

The words had scarcely been spoken when there came another jagged flash of lightning from the sky almost directly, so it seemed, in front of the young engineers. They saw the fork of electricity shoot down into the very midst of the spot where the German shells lay hidden. The flash of lightning was followed by a crack of thunder, and then almost immediately afterward came a tremendous explosion from the pile of shells as a number of them seemed to go off simultaneously.

There was an awful flash of fire, and then Dave and the others were hurled backward in a heap among the bushes and trees.

CHAPTER IV
LETTERS

For fully a minute after the tremendous explosion there was silence, broken only by the falling rain. Then came two minor explosions, one directly after the other.

The three young engineers had been hurled into a thick mass of brushwood, backed up by several saplings. The brushwood had fortunately acted as a sort of cushion for their bodies, otherwise one or more of them must have been seriously injured. Even as it was, Dave had the wind taken out of him and had his left ear scratched by a branch.

When our hero managed to scramble to his feet following the third explosion, he saw that Phil was wedged in between two of the saplings. Roger lay face downward, with both hands up to protect his head.

“How is it, boys, either of you hurt?” demanded the young sergeant, as soon as he could speak.

“I—I—don’t exactly kn—know,” stammered Phil slowly. “Any m—more explosions coming?” he continued apprehensively.

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Dave gazed at Roger, who was now turning over and sitting up. “How about you?”

“It didn’t do my hurt ankle much good,” responded the senator’s son. “But I guess we can all be thankful we weren’t blown to bits.”

“Or struck by the lightning,” added Dave. “And either of those things might have happened had we been where I think I dropped the watch.”

All three had by this time scrambled to their feet out of the brushwood, and now they lost no time in hurrying from the scene, Roger resting an arm over the shoulder of each of his chums and hopping along on his good foot. And it was well that they did this, for presently came another loud explosion, followed by several others.

“We got out just in time,” observed Phil, with a grave shake of his head.

“I don’t understand what made those last shells go off,” remarked Dave. “Certainly that lightning couldn’t have done it.”

“Maybe the dumps are connected with some mine,” put in Roger quickly. “I wouldn’t put it past the Germans to play some trick like that. It’s been done before.”

He referred to an incident which had come to light just about the time the American Expeditionary Force had arrived in that neighborhood. Some German shells had been found located in a spot near a roadway. When the newly-arrived soldiers had started to pick some of the shells up they had disturbed some wires connected with a mine and there had been a loud explosion in the roadway. Fortunately, at that time no artillery or motor-lorries were passing that particular spot, so that comparatively small damage had been done.

“Maybe the mine was located on that old wood trail we saw,” said Phil. “They might have figured out that the Americans would use that trail in coming this way.”

“I guess it’s good-bye to that watch,” remarked Dave. “If it was anywhere near the ammunition dump those explosions must have smashed it completely.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” answered Phil. “It may have fallen down in some hole or between some rocks and been well protected. Just the same, I don’t think I would go near the place yet. There may be more explosions to come.”

“I don’t intend to go near it,” answered Dave. “We’ll get back to the cliff and see what the other fellows are doing. If they are still there, these explosions will make them wonder what is happening.”

But even though he spoke thus lightly, the young sergeant felt the loss of the fine wrist-watch keenly. As said before, it had been a present from the folks at home, and was quite valuable.

“I should have been more careful about it,” he told himself rather bitterly. “I certainly was careless.”

The lightning and thunder now seemed to shift to the westward, but the rain continued to come down almost as heavily as before. Roger hopped along for quite a distance, but then intimated that he would have to rest.

“We’ll carry you as we did before, Roger,” said Dave. “It isn’t very far to the cliff from here.”

“I don’t see why I had to have such rotten luck trying to cross the gully,” remarked the injured one dolefully. “I suppose this will send me to the hospital for a few days at least, and I don’t want to go. I want to be in the thick of what is doing.”

“I think we’ll all have to rest up a bit, Roger, if this storm keeps on,” announced Dave. “The fact is, I don’t think the plans for the next advance are quite worked out yet,” he continued.

Presently the three came in sight of the cliff, and a few minutes later were down in the hollow where Dave and Phil had left the others. A shout went up from Ben and Shadow at their appearance.

“Hello! so you found him, did you?” cried Shadow. “That’s fine!”

“What’s the matter with your foot, Roger?” demanded Ben.

“Oh, I twisted my ankle a bit between the rocks.”

“Say, there have been some fearful explosions following some flashes of lightning,” said one of the other engineers. “Do you know anything about them?”

“We know all about them,” answered Dave. “We were close to them—in fact, too close for comfort.” And in a few brief words those who had come in told of what had occurred since Dave and Phil had gone on the search for their missing comrade.

“Lost your watch, eh, Dave?” said Ben. “That’s too bad! But maybe you’ll be able to find it after this storm clears away and when you are sure there won’t be any more explosions at that dump.”

All those left in the shelter of the cliff had donned their gas masks when told to do so by Phil. But Buster’s mask had not worked very well, and now the stout lad lay on a pile of brushwood looking anything but well.

“I guess I swallowed some of the gas, all right enough,” he said in a somewhat choked voice, while his eyes ran with tears. “You see, I couldn’t breathe very well, and so I tried to fix it. But I guess I made it worse.”

“If you got it, Buster, I guess the best thing we can do is to get you to the hospital as soon as possible,” said Dave quickly. And then he detailed Ben and Shadow for that work.

In a quarter of an hour the heavy rain ceased, and the entire party set off for camp through a misty drizzle, which was anything but cheering. Those who had taken charge of Buster set off in advance, supporting the heavy young engineer between them. They were followed by the others, all taking turns in carrying Roger.

“I don’t think that ankle is sprained so very badly after all,” announced the senator’s son. “And I am not going to the hospital unless I have to. I can bathe it and wrap it up in liniment, and maybe it will be all right in the morning.”

“And if it isn’t, Roger, I’ll see to it that you get a day’s rest,” answered Dave.

On arriving at the engineers’ camp, Dave made his report. Buster’s condition was immediately investigated, and then an ambulance was called, into which he was placed and carried to the nearest emergency hospital.

“The poor fellow may be worse off than we imagine,” said Captain Obray to Dave. “You remember the fate of poor Williamson?”

“Indeed I do,” answered our hero. Williamson was a somewhat elderly engineer, hailing from the South. Only a few weeks before he had gone to the front without his gas mask. As soon as a gas attack came, Williamson had fled to the rear, hoping to escape the deadly fumes. For several days he had acted as if nothing had harmed him. But then he had suddenly been taken with cramps and a feeling of sickness all over, and he was now in the hospital hovering between life and death.

Once back in camp, Roger lost no time in attending to his injured ankle, being assisted in this by Ben and Shadow. In the meantime Dave had to attend to his duties as a sergeant, while Phil went over to perform his own duties as a corporal, and also those which had been assigned to the senator’s son.

For three days it rained almost constantly—so much so that it was next to impossible for the engineers to do any of the work which had been assigned to them. A large part of that territory in France was rather low, and the rain caused many pools and some lakes to form. One of the main roadways was about a foot under water, and many of the lorry drivers asked jokingly how soon they were going to run boats in that vicinity. It was almost impossible to move anything, and one battery which attempted to shift its position got completely stuck in the mud and had to be left there until the storm let up.

In those days the young engineers had one place to visit which gave them a great deal of comfort. This was a large Y. M. C. A. hut, which had been established in that vicinity only a short while before. Here the boys often gathered in their off time, to write letters, play games, or listen to the music of a small but sweet-toned phonograph which had been set up. Those who cared to do so could smoke, and also obtain chocolate and other sweets, and likewise something hot to drink.

“It’s a mighty fine idea,” was Dave’s comment one evening, after he had spent two hours at the hut, writing some letters and listening to some familiar songs reproduced on the phonograph.

“Right you are! And the Y. M. C. A. people and those who are supporting the movement deserve a great deal of credit for what they have done,” replied Phil.

“I understand the Knights of Columbus are going to put up a hut some miles farther down the line,” put in another of the engineers.

“Yes. And the Salvation Army are doing something of the same thing,” came from still another. “A fellow was telling me the other day that they were dealing out hot pies and doughnuts right close to the firing-line. Some work for the lassies, eh?” and he smiled broadly.

During those days Roger’s ankle grew better rapidly. He still limped a little when he walked, but he could get around, and declared that in a few days more he would be as well as ever. Concerning Buster, however, the report was not so encouraging. Evidently he had got more of a dose of the poisonous gas than he had thought, and he was suffering considerably.

“It ought to be a lesson to all of us to be very careful to keep our masks in perfect order,” said Dave.

“It’s a lesson to me, all right enough,” answered Roger. “My mask is in the best condition now, and you can bet I’m going to see to it that it is kept that way. I’d rather have a good gas mask in this war than a good suit of clothes or new shoes.”

“Letters! Letters! Letters!”

It was a welcome cry from the far end of the camp, and immediately afterward came a rush from all sides, every engineer being more than anxious to get tidings from the loved ones left behind. There was a good-natured scramble as a whole sackful of epistles were distributed, and then the men drifted off in one direction or another to read the precious communications.

Dave was much disappointed. There was a letter from his Uncle Dunston, but none from Jessie. He had heard from the girl two weeks before, but he had hoped that she would send another communication soon. He saw that Roger had a letter from his sister Laura, and knew that between Laura’s letter and that from his uncle he would get a good idea of what was taking place in Crumville. Phil had been made happy by two letters; one, which evidently had been delayed, being from Belle Endicott.

The letter from his Uncle Dunston contained several items which were of considerable interest to our hero. One was to the effect that the Wensell Munition Company, in which Dave’s father was greatly interested, was doing more war work than ever before. And another was that both his father and his uncle had been active in the new Liberty Loan campaign, and had taken a large block of the bonds and had induced Mr. Wadsworth to do likewise.

“I knew they would do it,” said Dave to himself. “They are true blue, every one of them. My! from what Uncle Dunston writes, that Liberty Loan campaign must have been a red-hot one.”

“Of course we are all very proud of the fact that you have become a sergeant,” wrote Dunston Porter. “If you keep on the way you have started some day you may become a lieutenant or a captain, or go even higher. You certainly have our best wishes.

“And that puts me in mind, Dave. You, of course, remember Nat Poole, old Aaron Poole’s son, with whom you had so many differences in the past. Well, that slacker was finally drafted into the army in spite of all old Poole could do to keep him out. They sent him off to Camp Hickory; and now I understand he is on his way to France. I hope the war will knock some of the conceit out of him.”

“Nat Poole coming to France after all!” Dave murmured to himself as he read this portion of the letter. “I don’t see how they expect to make a soldier of him.” He well remembered what a coward Nat Poole had been and how even at Oak Hall he had often tried to shield himself by getting behind his cronies.

And then for the time being Dave dismissed Nat Poole from his mind, never for a moment dreaming of what trouble the coming of this fellow to France portended.

CHAPTER V
NEWS FROM HOME

Immediately after receiving his letter from Laura, Roger had been called away to perform some duties as a corporal, consequently it was not until some time later that Dave met him again. In the meantime the young sergeant ran across Phil, who was all smiles.

“Everything is going along beautifully with the Endicotts,” announced the shipowner’s son. “Belle is deep in Red Cross work, and has promised to send me a fine sweater she is making for the coming winter. Her mother is in the work, too. Mr. Endicott, of course, has his hands full with railroad matters, for the road is shipping large quantities of provisions and war materials, as well as many soldiers. He says they are also raising an extra large amount of cattle on Star Ranch, because the packing-houses want all they can get.”

“I’m glad to hear everything is going along so swimmingly,” announced Dave.

“Did you get a letter from Jessie?”

“I did not—worse luck! But I got a letter from my Uncle Dunston, and he says they are all well with the exception of poor old Professor Potts, who seems to be growing quite feeble. He wrote about Nat Poole, who was drafted, and he says Nat is now on the way to France.”

“You don’t say, Dave! That certainly is news. How angry old Aaron Poole must have been when they drafted Nat!”

“I suppose that is so, Phil. But I don’t believe Mrs. Poole was angry. If you’ll remember, she was quite a patriotic woman, and insisted on doing a lot for the Red Cross in spite of her husband’s objections.”

“Yes, I remember that. Probably she is proud to know her son is in the army. I’d like to know how Nat takes it.”

“I’m sure I don’t know. I don’t believe he would dare to grumble. The other fellows would jump on him pretty quick.”

“Perhaps joining the army will make a man of him.”

“I hope so.” Dave shook his head dolefully. “Nat certainly was a slacker. He didn’t believe in fighting, no matter what the provocation.”

“If he comes to France perhaps we’ll see him, Dave.”

“It’s possible, but not very probable, Phil—with so many hundreds of thousands coming over. He may not come to this part of the country at all. You know they are sending some of our men up into Belgium, and others down into Italy, as well as over here.”

“Did your uncle have anything to say about the Widow Carot and her children, or that rascally spy, Rudolph Holtzmann?”

“He said that the widow was overjoyed at the recovery of her children, and they were greatly pleased to think that Holtzmann was going to get what was coming to him from the French Government. Of course, our claim against Holtzmann has not yet been settled; but I think that sooner or later we’ll get that money through the French courts.”

A little later Roger came back, and Dave and some of his other chums noticed that he looked unusually thoughtful. Dave at once mentioned the letter from his Uncle Dunston and told what it contained.

“You got some letters too, didn’t you, Roger?” he remarked after he had finished telling his news and when there had come something of an awkward pause.

“Yes, I got two; one from my mother and the other from Laura. My mother says that she and father are well and that father is very deep in affairs at Washington. These are certainly mighty busy times for a United States senator.” Roger paused and Dave waited for him to go on. It was quite usual for the chums to mention what their letters contained, and often one or another would read a portion of an epistle which he thought might prove especially interesting.

“Laura also said they were all well at Crumville except Professor Potts, who is beginning to show his age,” went on the senator’s son. “She wrote me quite a lot about some entertainments they had been getting up for the benefit of some local charities which have been suffering because of the Red Cross and the Y. M. C. A. activities. I suppose a good many folks think because they give so much to the war organizations, they can’t afford to give much for local charities, although local charities have to be kept up just the same.”

And then Roger began to talk about charities in general and from that branched off to other subjects, including the war and the probable movements of the engineers. It was evident to Dave and Phil that he was holding something back, but what it was neither of them could imagine. Dave hoped with all his heart that no quarrel had arisen between his sister and the chum he loved so well.

“Roger has got something on his mind—that’s sure,” remarked Phil a little later, when he and Dave were by themselves.

“So it looks to me, Phil. I hope neither of his letters contained bad news.”

“If it was anything ordinary I think he would tell us about it,” continued the shipowner’s son thoughtfully. “It almost looks to me as if it might concern us as well as Roger.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to mention it, Phil, I certainly am not going to ask him about it.”

“Certainly not—it wouldn’t be fair. He has a right to keep it a secret if he wants to.”

All through the evening, when the young engineers took themselves once again to the Y. M. C. A. hut, where a well-known vaudeville singer gave a short entertainment which was highly appreciated, Dave and Phil, as well as some of the others, noticed how preoccupied in mind Roger continued to be. He paid hardly any attention to the singing or the jokes which were told, and seemed to be glad when it was over and he could return to their quarters and go to bed.

“It must be something pretty serious,” whispered Phil to Dave, as they retired for the night.

The young corporal was quite surprised when, early in the morning, he found himself awakened by Roger, who had come over and touched him on the shoulder.