The Brighton Boys in the Argonne ForestDriscoll, James R.
History
The Brighton Boys in the Argonne Forest
Driscoll, James R.
Argonne, Battle of the, France, 1918 -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
Into the hilltop thicket the boys, spreading out, forced their way.
Presently Herbert called: “Hello! Anyone in here?” An answering call
came from somewhere ahead. The lads came together and advanced again,
going fully fifty yards in all from the more open woodland on the
slope. A big pine towered ahead and as usual there was a small cleared
space here, into which the boys went hurriedly. A khaki-clad figure
lay on the ground, hands and feet tied with twine. Herbert and Don ran
toward it.
“Hands oop, _Amerikaner_” came a terse command from the bushes and with
that four Huns, with rifles ready, leaped out confronting them.
CHAPTER XXII
PRESTO! CHANGE-O!
WHAT could the lads do but comply with this order? The German soldiers
seemed jubilant; they had merely been set to guard a prisoner who,
though firmly bound, had proved himself somewhat of the wildcat
species. Now, in pure good luck they were to add two more prisoners and
thus gain some recognition from their commander; perhaps added rations.
The biggest Hun handled his automatic with evident evil intention; he
thrust it almost into Don’s face and called on his comrades to disarm
and to bind the captured Yanks, which was speedily done. Then he flung
them both upon the ground and Don fell across the legs of the first
prisoner, who lifted his head to stare from bloodshot eyes. The boy
gazed into the much bruised face of Gill.
“Sho! Got you, too, eh? And the lieutenant! Reckon we’re in for Berlin
now, sure enough. And there ain’t no way to make a break. I tried it;
fit three of ’em over ’bout ten acres, I reckon, an’ hurt ’em some,
too, I’m bettin’, but they got me, final. Wish I had somethin’ to eat.”
“I’d go without grub for a week longer to be out of here!” Don
exclaimed.
“This is tough luck,” Herbert agreed. “But we seem to be in for it. If
we could only get a yell out that would reach the other fellows; maybe
they’d understand.”
“Let’s try it, Herb! All together, Gill; now then----”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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