Army Boys on the Firing Line | Page 7

had selected for his attempt, there was an opening
in the wire that had been hastily strung to guard against a possible night
attack by the American forces.

Up and down in front of this a stalwart sentry was pacing. He stopped
and looked sharply at Frank, as the latter approached. When he was ten
feet distant the sentry presented his bayonet and called:
"Halt! Wer da?"
"Ein freund," responded Frank.
"Losung," demanded the sentinel, asking for the countersign.
"America!" answered Frank, and hurled his revolver full in the sentry's
face.
The heavy butt of the weapon landed plumb in the middle of the
German's forehead. He had opened his mouth to shout, but no sound
came forth. The rifle fell from his hands and he went down like a log.
With a leap Frank got through the gap in the wire and started running
like a deer toward the American lines.
There were startled shouts behind him, hoarse commands, a rushing of
feet and a crackling volley of shots. The bullets whizzed and zipped
close to him and he felt a sharp sting as one of them grazed the lower
part of his left arm. Once he stumbled and fell headlong, but he
scrambled hastily to his feet and ran on.
But now a new peril was added. Behind him a star-shell shot up,
followed by another and another, together with strings of "blazing
onions," until the broken field over which he was making his way
became almost as bright as day. In that greenish radiance his flying
figure stood out sharply, and the firing which had been wild now
became more accurate. At the same time, a look behind him showed
that a troop of men had been hastily organized and was rushing after
him.
This, however, gave him little concern. A bullet might catch him, but
these heavy Germans, never!

But just as he was comforting himself with this thought he tripped and
went down with a shock that jarred every bit of breath out of his body.
He struggled to get up but could not move. His lungs labored as though
they would burst. His legs refused to obey his will. He felt as if he were
in the clutches of a nightmare.
And all the time he could hear the pounding of his pursuers' feet
drawing closer and closer. Would he never be able to breathe again?
Little by little, during seconds that seemed ages, his breath came back
to him, in short gasps at first but gradually becoming longer, until at
last he rose weakly to his feet.
He started out again, slowly at first, but, as his wind came back to him,
gathering speed at every stride. But now his pursuers were perilously
near. Those precious seconds lost perhaps had been fatal.
His fingers gripped the handle of his knife. He would not be taken.
Capture in that uniform meant certain death. No German should gloat
over his execution. If brought to bay he would die fighting then and
there, using his knife so savagely that his enemies would have to shoot
him to save themselves.
Commands to halt came from behind him accompanied by bullets, but
he only ran the swifter.
But just then a tumult rose from another quarter. The lines in front of
him seemed to awake. Lights flashed here and there, a mass of figures
detached themselves from the gloom, and in the light of a star-shell
Frank saw a detachment of American troops coming on the run!
His pursuers saw them too and the chase slackened. There was a
hurried gathering for consultation, a volley of shots, and then the
Germans beat a hasty retreat, hotly pursued by a band of the Americans
while another group of them rushed up and surrounded Frank.
"Why, it's a Hun!" exclaimed one of them disgustedly, as his eyes fell

on the uniform. "Only a deserter, and we thought they were chasing one
of our own men."
"That's one on us," remarked another. "The rest of the boys will have
the laugh on us for sure."
"Do I look like a Heinie?" demanded Frank with a grin. "I can lick the
fellow that calls me one."
A shout of amazement rose from the crowd as they gathered close to
him.
"Sheldon! Sheldon! Old scout! Bully boy!"
They mauled and pounded him until he was sore, for he was the idol of
the regiment. There was a rush, and Bart and Billy had their arms
around him and fairly hugged the breath out of him.
"Frank! Frank!" they exclaimed delightedly. "We thought you were
gone. The last we saw of you, you were fighting like a tiger, but then
the enemy reinforcements came and we were swept away from you.
We didn't know whether you were