CHAPTER XIII

A FORWARD RUSH

"There's a lot more to this than any of us suspect, I guess," said Gerald Twinkleton, with a grave shake of his head. "Of course when Jack and I saw those men sending up smoke signals we didn't dream, at first, that anything was wrong. But when we noticed the two civilians with them we guessed there must be some queer deal on, and we decided to report matters. Then we learned that this wasn't the first time those signals had gone up, and each time, after they had shot up into the air, there was an enemy attack."

"Bad business," commented Jimmy.

"But if those fellows are spies, including the two in uniform, where would they get one of our smoke-making machines?" asked Bob.

"The signal corps has a number of them," explained Jimmy. "One might easily be stolen, together with the chemicals needed."

"The signal corps!" cried Roger. "And those Bixtons--who are off the same piece of goods as Mike, back at Camp Sterling--those Bixtons are in the signal corps!"

"That's what makes me say there's more to this than appears on the surface," commented Gerald. "Now let's hear again what it was you saw in the dugout, Jimmy boy."

Thereupon Jimmy related what they had seen as they were making their escape after the collapse of the shelter where they had been resting.

"Would you say for sure that the two you saw in uniform in the dugout were the two Bixtons you afterward noticed in the signal corps?" asked Jack of Jimmy.

"No, I couldn't be positive," was the answer. "You see we didn't have more than a hasty glimpse of them, and then only by the light of a candle. But from what you Twinkle Twins tell us, it's evident that the same four--two in uniform and two without--who were in the dugout were also sending up smoke signals."

"Well, it looks that way," admitted Gerald. "Of course, there's always a chance that things may take a different turn, but there's enough here for headquarters to get busy on."

"The main thing to do, in my opinion," declared Jimmy, "is to find out if the fellows we saw in uniform in the dugout and the two the Twinkle Twins saw sending up signals are the same, and then to learn if they're the Bixtons."

"That's the idea!" exclaimed Bob. "But it's easier said than done."

"We'll help all we can," said the Twinkleton Twins, as they started off again in their aeroplane, the tank having been filled with gasolene.

The secret service men at headquarters, including Captain Frank Dickerson, at once acted after the boys had given the additional information in their possession.

Jimmy and his chums had few opportunities to learn what was done by Captain Dickerson and his associates to get on the trail of the smoke signal traitors. All they heard was that an investigation was being made and that every effort was being bent toward learning whether or not the Bixtons were involved. It would not do to accuse these two wrongly, even though they were of a caliber not greatly desired in the army. They were entitled to be considered innocent until proved guilty, and the private quarrel they had with Jimmy and Roger, because of the instrumentality of the latter in sending Mike Bixton to prison, had nothing to do with the smoke signal issue.

As for that personal quarrel, the threats the Bixtons had made against Roger and Jimmy did not greatly worry the two. They felt that they could look out for themselves even against two such bullies and braggarts as were Aleck and Wilbur Bixton.

Indeed, there was a time when it seemed as if the paths of the two signal corps men would not again cross those of Roger and Jimmy. For the two latter, with their chums, were sent to a distant sector where the fighting was almost constant. And the chances were much against the four Brothers returning to the lines where the Bixtons were stationed.

There was hard fighting--so desperate, in fact, that Jimmy and his chums had little chance to think about anything except how to keep from being killed and how to inflict as heavy a punishment as possible on the enemy. The fighting was in a wooded country where advance was difficult, for the thick underbrush afforded shelter for many machine gun nests, and the Huns seemed to place more dependence on this style of fighting than on any other at this time and place.

Day after day the skirmishes, all part of one great battle, waged in and around the forest. The country was rough and hilly, with streams here and there, some of them large enough to be called rivers in the American sense, while others so dignified were but mere creeks.

There was not so much of the trench fighting here. The woods afforded almost as good shelter as did holes dug in the earth, but this was not saying much. At times, of course, it became necessary for the Khaki Boys to dig in, but they did not stay long enough in one place to make possible the digging of elaborate and well-protected trenches.

All sorts and styles of fighting went on during the week that Jimmy and his friends were in this sector. There was the duel of big guns, the exchange of shots from mortar batteries that fired wicked bombs; there was, of course, constant rifle fire, and many a man lost his life because of some hidden sniper. Aeroplanes were constantly flying to and fro, the Huns endeavoring to locate ammunition dumps or transport trains in the woods, that they might blow up either or both. And the Americans and Allied planes sought to so direct the advance of their fighters as to make it most effective.

There was an advance. That fact was clear, for the Americans were battling desperately--artillery, infantry and the ever-gallant marines. Inch by inch, almost, it seemed, the Huns were being pushed back. But they did not cease to struggle and give hard blows in return.

"Look!" exclaimed Jimmy to Roger one day, when a respite had come after a desperate and bloody conflict. "There go the signal men up to the front. Must be getting ready for an advance."

"Looks like it," assented Roger.

"And there are the Bixtons!" added Bob.

The two brothers, in whom so much interest centered for the four Khaki Boys, were hurrying along with their companions. And, as on the other occasion, Aleck and Wilbur Bixton carried the black electrical box.

"They didn't see us," commented Roger.

"Just as well," said Jimmy. "We don't want any family rows now. The one with Fritzie is enough."

Whether it was because of some information acquired by the signal corps men or in arrangement with a previous plan did not develop, but soon after the two Bixtons and their comrades had hastened up toward the front lines the order came for a general advance.

And then came a forward rush--a smashing through the German lines as they stretched through the woods. Strictly speaking, there was hardly a line, as one thinks of it as represented by trenches; but there were machine gun nests here and there--deadly nests they were, too--and there were hiding places sheltering grim German fighters. Big guns there were--blasting guns that wrought fearful havoc. And for each shot the Boches fired the Sammies sent two in return, so that slowly but surely they advanced.

Then came a forward rush over a nasty bit of ground. There was a fusillade of rifle fire, as well as a hail of bullets from the machine guns.

"Come on! Come on!" cried Jimmy.

"I'm with you!" yelled Roger.

"Seen Iggy and Bob?" asked Jimmy, as his chum leaped over the dead body of a German to advance with the sergeant.

"Yes, they're coming. Look! There's a party of Huns trying to get that machine gun to play on us! Let's tackle 'em!"

"Go ahead!"

Almost before they knew it Jimmy and Roger had distanced their immediate companions, and together they rushed on six Germans who were working over two machine guns. Two of the Huns were shot and another was bayoneted. The rest turned and fled.

"So far, so good!" cried Jimmy, wiping off some blood that was running down his face. "But what's happened? We seem to have the whole place to ourselves."