CHAPTER XX

THE CAVE FIGHT

Perilous in the extreme was the strait in which Jimmy and Roger found themselves. They realized that they could not remain very long on the rock in mid-stream in their present weakened end drenched condition. It was barely large enough for them, and just as the raft came in sight a new peril became manifest. This was the fact that the river was rising.

Roger had noticed it and called Jimmy's attention to it just as the Germans came around a bend in the stream. There had been considerable rain, and more was in prospect. The stream would probably rise suddenly, and then it would be impossible for the Khaki Boys to maintain their position on the rock. The torrent would sweep over it.

But a more immediate need confronted them. They felt that they must take refuge on the raft as the only means of getting out of the desperate situation where fate had swept them.

"Get ready!" called Jimmy to his chum, as a swirl of the current brought the raft nearer the rock.

"What's the game to be?" asked Roger.

"We'll leap on the raft as it floats past. If the Germans will let us share it with them, well and good. If not--well, we'll just have to fight them, that's all. As I said, it's our lives or theirs."

"If they haven't any arms we stand a chance," returned Roger. "But if they try any shooting----"

"I don't believe they have a gun or a revolver," interrupted Jimmy. "If they had, they'd have begun shooting before this. Come on now, get ready!"

The attitude of the Germans on the raft, at least those who by their attitude showed themselves to be unwounded, or at best but slightly wounded, was strange. They seemed stunned, as if they had passed through some terrible experience. And, as Roger and Jimmy learned later, the men had taken part in a desperate engagement, and their whole command had been practically wiped out. These few had managed to escape to the raft, but the horror of what they had gone through seemed to make them temporarily incapable of using all their faculties.

It was due to this, perhaps, that Roger and Jimmy were able to accomplish what they did. For as they leaped aboard the raft, there was only slight resistance at first. One or two of the Germans tried to push the lads off, and they would have succeeded had they used their strength to its best advantage.

But they did not seem to know what to do. As a matter of fact they lacked a leader, and a quick glance directed to the prostrate figures on the raft showed that one was an under officer. But he seemed to be dying.

And so, leaping from their rock, the two Americans landed on the raft. One German tried to push Jimmy off, but was sent staggering back with a blow in the face, and he fell over one of the prostrate figures. Then Roger overcame the man who rushed at him, and for the time being the Khaki Boys were victorious.

But the situation was almost changed for the worse a moment later. The under-officer, corresponding probably to an American second lieutenant, raised his head from a pool of blood and cried, in German, of course:

"Throw off the American pigs!"

It was just this command that the German privates needed, and it seemed to galvanize them into action. The four, who of those on the raft alone seemed to be unwounded, sprang at Jimmy and Roger. But one missed his footing and fell heavily. This left only three, and two of them sprang at Jimmy.

But once more luck was with the Khaki Boys. With a flash of inspiration, Roger, as he saw his antagonist coming at him, reached in his back trousers pocket and pulled out a small nickle oil-can that he used on his rifle. Holding it out, as though it were a revolver, Roger pointed it at the German's head. In an instant the man's hands went up, and he cried:

"_Kamerad!_"

Pausing not an instant in his actions, Roger dashed his fist, oil can and all straight into the man's face, knocking him off the raft and into the river.

"Now I can help you, Jimmy!" cried Roger, and he sprang to the assistance of his chum. And sorely did Jimmy need help, for the two Germans had almost overpowered him in their endeavor to thrust him off the raft.

With desperate energy Roger and Jimmy fought the two, and for a few seconds hard blows were given and taken on both sides. The wounded officer shouted encouragement to his men, but the desperate plight of Roger and Jimmy made them fight to such good end that in a few minutes they had forced their assailants overboard.

The man who had fallen seemed to have either broken or badly strained his leg. He was groaning and unable to rise, and this left no able-bodied Germans to attack Jimmy and Roger. They were satisfied that none in the party of Huns was armed, and so they had the situation well in hand.

"Well, this is a little better than being on the rock--after we've got things our own way," declared Jimmy, as he began to get his breath back.

"What's to be done now?" asked Roger, while the wounded officer glared at them.

Jimmy looked down the foaming river. They were in a wider and deeper part now, and the raft was swinging in toward shore.

"We'll land at that point below," said Jimmy, indicating the spot meant. "We can leap ashore, and--well, we'll have to trust to luck."

"Yes, I'll feel better once we get ashore," said Roger.

They looked at the figures on the raft. Some of the Germans were dead, and others, apparently, dying. There was nothing Roger and Jimmy could do, and, watching their chance, when the raft was within a few feet of the shore they jumped off.

There was a rope fastened to one end of the crude craft, and, catching hold of it as he leaped ashore, Jimmy cried to the officer:

"Do you want to be made fast here?"

The man muttered something in his own tongue, but as it did not seem to be an answer in the affirmative to Jimmy's question, the lad tossed his end of the rope on the raft and let the structure go floating on down stream.

"They'll have to take their chance, same as we did," remarked Jimmy. "Though I'd have anchored them if they'd said the word."

"They may be rescued by friends below here," suggested Roger. "And now what are we going to do? It's going to be dark soon, and we don't know which way to go to get back to our lines."

"You said something then!" declared Jimmy. "It's going to rain, too. I felt a few drops. Say, this is about the worst plight we've been in since we left Camp Sterling."

"Oh, it might be worse!" declared Roger, with as much optimism as he could muster. "Let's hike along until we get somewhere and find something to eat."

"Say, don't get sarcastic!" begged Jimmy.

They walked up the river bank and saw a lonely bit of country stretching before them. There did not appear to be a house on it, but that war had passed that way was made evident by many signs, few of them pleasant.

"Let's see where this road leads to," suggested Jimmy, pointing to one that did not appear to have been used recently.

"Might as well take it as any," agreed Roger. "I wish it led to a can of beans and a ham sandwich."

"Don't rub it in," groaned Jimmy.

They were tired, wet, and hungry. They were exhausted from the battle in which they had taken part, they were sore from the treatment accorded them by the Bixtons, and they had hardly recovered from the strenuous battle on the raft. Still they did not give up, but tramped on.

They passed a field in which a few miserable turnips were growing, and, digging out some, they ate them. Poor as this food was, it served to put a little more life into them.

It was getting dusk when, as they were going down the road, they heard voices ahead of them, around a turn. Jimmy and Roger looked at one another. The same thought was in the minds of both.

Were these friends or foes?

"Let's hide until we take a look," suggested Jimmy.

"Hide where?" Roger demanded.

"Up in that hole, or cave," went on Jimmy, pointing to one that showed through a fringe of bushes in the face of a hill which was bordered by the road. "We can stay there until we see who is here."

In the fast-falling darkness they scrambled up the hill and dodged into the cave. As far as they could tell it seemed to be a fairly large one.

"Look down and see if you can make out who was doing that talking, Roger," Jimmy directed. "I have a flashlight in my pocket, but I guess the water's put it out of business. Otherwise, we could see what sort of place we're in."

Jimmy's fears regarding the light were only too true. It was useless without a new battery. Roger looked down toward the road, but could see nothing, nor did they hear any more talk.

They were debating with themselves what was best to do when it began to rain hard, and Jimmy said:

"Well, we can keep dry in here, or, at least, we won't get any wetter. Good thing we found this cave when we did. But I'd like to have a light so we could see what it is. Might be a whole squad of Huns in here for all we know."

"Not very likely," decided Roger. "If there were any here they'd have tackled us before this. Say, this is some storm!

"I'd like to know who it was we heard," continued Roger, when he and his chum had been in the cave perhaps half an hour.

"So would I," assented Jimmy. "Well, if it stops raining we can----"

He came to a sudden pause, and Roger understood why, for there was a noise in the rear of the cave. It was the sound of two persons talking. And the Khaki Boys, looking into the blackness back of them, saw the glimmer of a light.

"Look! There is someone in here!" whispered Jimmy.

"Let's creep back and see who it is," advised Roger.

Cautiously they made their way back toward the faint light. It increased in brightness as they neared it, and then, to their great astonishment, they saw a sort of room fitted up in the cave. It was like one of the trench dugouts, and there were some rude chairs and a table in the center of the underground apartment. On the table stood a lantern, but it was the sight of the two figures standing beside the table that gave Roger and Jimmy their biggest surprise.

For the figures were none other than those of Wilbur and Aleck Bixton!

The two scoundrels had set their rifles in a corner of the cave room and were looking at some papers they had spread out on the table. They did not seem to feel the need of caution, and spoke aloud.

"Well," remarked Aleck, "I guess by this time those two fellows wish they hadn't been so active in making trouble for poor Mike."

Wilbur Bixton nodded.

"I think we did for them all right," went on Aleck. "They'll never trouble us again. But I don't see what's keeping Carl Anker. He said he'd be here at nine, and it's long past that now."

"Oh, he and Fritz Ammann never did show up on time," remarked Wilbur. "I guess we'll have to wait for 'em. We ought to make 'em pay big for this information. It's the most important we've handed over yet."

"That's right," agreed his brother. "And look at the risk we run. They've got to come across with more money!"

Roger nudged Jimmy as they hid in a dark corner, and Jimmy signaled back that he recognized the import of the talk.

Then as the two scoundrels bent lower over the table, handling a number of papers, Jimmy put his lips to Roger's ear and whispered:

"If we could sneak around and get their guns, we could make prisoners of 'em!"

"That's right!" agreed his chum. "There's some black work going on here. They must have come to this cave to meet two men, who, from their names, are Germans."

"Not so loud!" whispered Jimmy. "Come on now! We've got to work fast. You take one gun and I'll get the other. Their backs are toward us, and if they don't hear us they can't see us. Once we have the guns, the jig is up for them."

Slowly and cautiously, in the semi-darkness, Roger and Jimmy crept forward. They were almost at the weapons, standing in a corner behind the two men who were bending over the table, when suddenly Roger's foot struck against what seemed to be a tin can lying on the floor of the cave. There was a loud, metallic rattle.

"Who's there?" cried Aleck, springing up and wheeling around.

"Come on! Rush for it!" yelled Jimmy, all need of silence now being gone. He and his chum made a leap for the guns, but Jimmy's foot slipped and he went down.

Wilbur Bixton turned higher the flame of the lamp, and in the sudden illumination the two brothers saw the boys they had, some hours before, dropped over the cliff.

For an instant deadly fear showed on the faces of the two plotters. But as they realized that Jimmy and Roger were not ghosts, the Bixtons sprang at them with yells of rage.

Then in the cave began a desperate hand-to-hand fight!