The Khaki Boys over the Top; Or, Doing and Daring for Uncle SamChase, Josephine
History
The Khaki Boys over the Top; Or, Doing and Daring for Uncle Sam
Chase, Josephine
World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
"'Maybe' won't get us anywhere," said Jimmy. "Of course, I'd rather
lose the five thousand francs ten times over than have anything happen
to Maxwell. And I'd like to know where he is for his own sake. At the
same time I'd like to get that money back, as much for my own sake
as for you fellows," he added. "I can very nicely use a bit of spare
cash."
"So can I," chimed in Franz. "Maybe we'll have a chance to hunt for
the serg. after this place quiets down a bit."
"I hope so," sighed Jimmy. Really he was more affected than he liked
to admit, and it was not altogether over the loss of the money,
either. He had been firm friends with the missing man--not as close a
chum as with his four Brothers, but enough so that there was a genuine
loss in his disappearance.
"Well, we'll see what we can do," decided Bob. "We've got to look
after Iggy, too--that is, if he's alive. But we can't do anything
along either line to-night."
"No, I guess not," agreed Jimmy. "Some of us'll have to do sentry go,
I expect, or take a listening post."
And he was right in his surmise. He and Bob were detailed to take a
trick at a listening post--to be on the alert for any possible advance
of the temporarily defeated Germans. Franz, because of his bruised
ankle, was not put on duty. Indeed, he came near being sent to the
rear for treatment when an officer discovered his hurt.
"It'll be all right in the morning," declared the youth of German
blood, who, nevertheless, was such an ardent hater of the Kaiser and
his "Potsdam gang," as a certain preacher has called the Hun ruler's
associates. "I'm simply not going to the hospital! Captain, there'll
be fighting in the morning; won't there, sir?"
"Very likely," was the grim answer.
"Then I'm going to stay, sir!" declared Franz, forgetting that he
was speaking to his superior officer. "I'll be able to walk in the
morning, and I want to get some more of the beasts!" and he fairly
snarled the word. No true-blooded American hated the Huns as did Franz
Schnitzel, of German parentage.
"Very well," assented the captain. "You may stay until morning, at
least."
"Thank you, sir," replied Franz, saluting. He knew in his heart that
he would never give in, no matter how his ankle hurt, and the pain was
not inconsiderable, either.
There came a reaction after the fierce fighting of the morning and
early afternoon, and when night came, and the lads, with only a short
period of rest, had to go out on sentry or other duty, there was a
weariness of body, and a queer feeling of the mind, that did not make
the occasion one of pleasure.
But duty was duty and it had to be done.
Jimmy and Bob had an advanced listening post, and they took their
positions about ten o 'clock that night. It was dark and a drizzling
rain was falling.
"I'd much rather go to bed in a dugout," declared Jimmy, stifling a
yawn.
"Same here," agreed Bob. "Say, what do you s'pose happened to Maxwell,
anyhow!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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