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He opened his eyes, looked almost uncomprehendingly at his two chums and smiled faintly. "So, come you haf!" he murmured. "Think I did dat you would!" His head, which he had raised, sank back limply. "Here!" cried Jimmy, opening his canteen. "Drink this!" Poor Iggy did, gratefully enough.
"I fired about all I had coming on in the rush." "Same here," admitted Bob. "Maybe a machine-gun yet we could shoot," suggested Iggy. "One only was bust by your grenade, Jimmy. Maybe one iss " "By Jove! He's right!" cried Jimmy. "I never thought of that. If worst comes to worst we may, for a short time, turn the German's own gun on 'em. Come on and we'll take a look."
But, for a time, there was no further explosion, so that the Khaki Boys had a chance to recover their breath, and, what was more important in their perilous situation, gather their no less scattered wits. "What what in the name of the great Attila himself was that?" gasped Roger. "I think it was yet a gun what went off," mildly said Iggy. "A gun?
Both have mysteriously disappeared." "What's the official report on the serg.?" asked Roger. "Just missing that's all," said Jimmy, simply. "I made inquiries about him as soon as I had located Iggy in a hospital. Sergeant Maxwell is down as missing. Of course, there's no report about my money. In fact, we five, and the serg. himself, are the only ones who know about it." "Missing," mused Bob.
And then all five of the lads lost consciousness and seemed to be slipping down into everlasting blackness, while all about them fell and rattled and banged stones, bricks, mortar-dust and dirt, mingled with cracked and splintered wood. It was Iggy who first recovered his senses.
"I haf yet two off dem handle chranades," spoke up Iggy, meaning, thereby the serrated Mills bombs which were used in the trench raids. "Hold on to them!" advised Jimmy. "We'll need them if the Huns see us, and they're very likely to." They crawled to the end of the mill flume. The fire was now some distance from this wooden water carrier.
Iggy looked on almost as uncomprehendingly as did Bob, but Iggy was staring at a dead German on the floor of the mill a German he had killed by a bayonet thrust from behind, when that same German was about to fire his revolver, pointblank, at Roger. Iggy was filled with many emotions as he looked at his work work undertaken and carried out for Liberty.
"I guess he means why can't he stand up," translated Roger, for sometimes their foreign Brother misplaced his English words considerably. "Sure! Why can't not I stand?" went on Iggy. "My legs they is got no business to 'em. Like paper legs they is!" Roger and Jimmy looked apprehensively at one another.
Only Iggy seemed to be seriously hurt, but it was demonstrated, a few moments later, that he was not. For he scrambled out, scattering the dust in a cloud, and stood with his chums. They were a sorry sight covered with dust and streaks of blood, for the wounds they had bound up had opened again, and they had many fresh scratches and cuts. "It's very evident what happened," declared Jimmy.
Merely to sit quietly with one on is a torture, and to work or fight in one is about the limit of human endurance. Still the orders were to keep them on, and they were kept. But more than once Roger, Franz or Iggy would look around as though for a sight of some one in authority who would tell them to remove the hideous head-pieces.
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