A bullet had smashed John Big Bear’s shoulder, and all were half frozen from the icy water and chilling winds. But they had learned that for which they had been sent. The rear guard left on the American side of the stream was rapidly being ferried to the opposite side, and no shots worth speaking of had come at them from there. Undoubtedly the Germans were continuing a hasty retreat under cover of the night. And with all the strength they had remaining in them, after half an hour’s rowing had brought them to a place of safe landing, the lads ran back into the mainland, to report to their commander and get hot coffee and into dry clothes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XVI THE DEATH DUNGEON EVEN as the lads had started from the river’s edge inland to where their own lines stretched away to seemingly endless distances south and east, the moon which had been such a handicap to them in their sortie against the Germans hid its light behind gathering clouds, and that which had developed into a steady drizzle before they reached their company’s quarters was now a veritable downpour as they turned in for the night. Truly, they were in France! As Ollie remarked between vigorous tugs at a mud-caked and water-soaked shoe that was reluctant to leave an aching foot, it was unbelievable that it could rain anywhere else with such persistency and in such quantity. “I don’t know what country is on the opposite side of the earth from France,” he said, with a vehemence engendered by the weather, his shoes and the experiences he had endured, “but I’ll wager it’s a mighty fertile land whatever and wherever it is.” “Hope it grows men who know how to keep quiet when others want to sleep,” a deep bass voice grumbled out of the darkness of a corner which the boys up to that moment had thought unoccupied. “Buck Granger!” George Harper almost shouted. “Of all things unexpected! When did you get back?” “Caught up with you again about noon,” Buck answered drowsily. “They thought they had me for keeps, I guess, but I’m limping along all right. I’m back to hand Fritz something as good as he gave me.” The meeting took on the characteristics of a family reunion, for really the lads had not realized what a warm spot Buck occupied in their hearts until he had fallen, as they thought, mortally wounded, the day before. And so, despite his sleepy protests, they kept up a running fire of questions and conversation for the next ten minutes. “Well,” said Buck at last, as though in retaliation, “now that you’ve about pumped me dry, suppose I turn the tables and ask what you fellows have been doing out so late as this?”