Chapter 11

GALLANT WORK

The water had a chill in it that struck to Frank's marrow, but the reaction soon came and he proceeded swiftly, making as little noise as possible, and keeping body and head low in the water. He was a powerful swimmer, and the distance was as nothing to him. But the greatest caution had to be exercised lest he be discovered by a sentry whose shot would alarm his comrades and put an end to the projected raid.

But fortune favored him and he soon reached the boat, which seemed to be large enough, with some crowding, to carry the American party. It swung with its stern toward the shore, to which it was held by a rope that was passed about a cleat.

Frank clung for a moment to the bow and listened intently. He could hear no breathing nor any other sound that indicated that any one was on board. The Germans had evidently not dreamed of any such exploit as that on which Frank was bent.

But that a watch was kept on the shore was evident, for Frank could hear the measured step of a sentinel some distance away. The steps receded as he listened, and he gathered that the patrol was an extended one. Now was his time, while the sentry was at the further limit of his beat.

Swiftly he climbed on board, slipped the rope from its cleat, and with a push of an oar against the bank sent the boat some distance out into the stream. He did not dare to row for he feared that the oars grating in the rowlocks might betray him. But he made a paddle of one of the oars, dipping it in alternately on opposite sides of the bow, paddle fashion, and before long reached his party, by whom he was received with intense though subdued jubilation.

In whispers Frank explained to Wilson what he had observed and action was agreed on accordingly. The party, ten in all, bestowed themselves as best as they might in their narrow quarters and the boat started on its perilous expedition.

A paddle was employed as before, and the journey was necessarily slow, for the boat sank in the water almost to the gunwales. But they reached the other side at last, and Frank, slipping into the water, waded to the bank, where he fastened the boat securely.

Whether they would ever step into that boat again was known to none of the party that slipped like shadows up the grassy bank. They were outnumbered two to one, or more, and their success depended mainly on surprise. The slightest slip in their plans would bring the expedition to grief.

They lay flat on the bank and listened. There was no sound except the tread of the sentry's feet coming nearer. It was unlikely that the absence of the boat had been discovered. Still, it might have been, and the dead silence might portend an ambush by the enemy.

This was a chance, however, that they had to take. But the first thing to do was to dispose of the sentry.

The path along which he seemed to be coming was bordered with a small and uncared-for hedge.

In a hurried whisper Wilson gave his commands.

"You, Sheldon and Raymond, creep ahead and lie on opposite sides of the ledge. When the sentry comes along, close on him at the same time. Keep him from making a noise if you can. The one thing is to be quick."

Frank and Bart glided along and took up positions opposite each other.

"You grab his gun, Bart, and I'll make for his throat," whispered Frank.

The sentry came on unsuspectingly. Lithe as panthers the boys leaped upon him, Bart grasping the gun, while Frank's sinewy hands fastened on his throat.

There was a muffled exclamation and a short sharp struggle. Then the sentry lay on the ground unconscious, while Frank and Bart hastily improvised a gag, and bound the man's hands and feet.

"Good work," commended the corporal, as Frank and Bart rejoined their comrades. "That was the most ticklish part. The rest ought to be easy."

But he was mistaken, for just then the door of a dugout in a small trench opened, and two men came out with lanterns. It was evidently the corporal of the guard who had come out with a private to relieve the sentry.

There was an exclamation of surprise and alarm, and as the light of the lanterns revealed the group of dark figures at the head of the trench, the men started to leap back into the dugout. But a rifle cracked and one of them fell. The other, however, got inside and slammed and barred the door.

"Rush them, men!" shouted the corporal, and charged, at their head, toward the dugout.

Two or three of them launched themselves against the door, but it held.

"Splinter it with your gun butts!" yelled the corporal, and a series of heavy blows thundered against the barrier.

Some of the planks started to give, but before the door had completely yielded, it was thrown open from within and the Germans rushed out, firing as they came.

They were met by a return volley, and two of them fell. But the others charged fiercely, and in an instant the two forces were engaged in a terrible hand-to-hand battle.

In the narrow confines of the trench there was no chance for shooting after the first volley. It was a matter of fists and knives and in this the Germans proved, as they had many times before, that they were no match for the sinewy young Americans who with a yell went at them like wild-cats.

Sullenly they retreated and their leader held up his hands and shouted "_Kamerad!_"

His followers did the same. The fight was over. None of the Americans had been killed though one was slightly and another severely wounded. Three of the Germans would never fight again and two others stood supported by their comrades.

Two of the Americans stood at the door of the dugout and searched the Germans for arms as they came through. Others stood at the head of the trench and herded the prisoners together for transportation to the other side.

The German corporal looked about him as he and his men stood guarded by Americans with loaded rifles, and his chagrin was evident as he realized that he had been captured by so small a force.

"Are these all the men you have?" he asked in passable English of Wilson.

"They were enough, weren't they?" answered Wilson with a grin that reflected itself on the faces of his comrades.

"_Donnerwetter!_" growled the German. "You would never have taken us if we had known!"

"We don't tell all we know," answered Wilson with a grin.

The prisoners were ferried across in groups of half a dozen at a time, but not before Billy had had the satisfaction of gathering up the insulting placards that had aroused his ire and tearing them up before the Germans' faces.

"Feel better now?" laughed Frank.

"Lots," replied Billy. "I couldn't exactly make them swallow them, but they must have felt almost as bad to see so much German Kultur going to waste."

The party was greeted with exuberant delight on their return, and received the special thanks of the captain.

"It was a big risk," he smiled, "but risks have a way of going through when they are carried out by the boys I'm lucky enough to command."

"You forget, Captain," smiled the lieutenant who stood nearby, "that there are no American soldiers in France."

"That's so," laughed the captain. "The U-boats stopped us from coming over, didn't they?"