CHAPTER XVI

  ONLY TWO LEFT

  "Whew, that was some fight!"

  "I say de same by you, Bobby!"

  It was Iggy who made the last remark and Bob Dalton who spoke first.They had swept on with their companions in arms, crashing their waythrough the German lines, and now the order had come to cease firing.It would not do for too large a number of the cheering, victoriousAmericans to get beyond the protection of their big guns, and this waslikely if they rushed on much farther.

  "Got any water in your can, Iggy?" went on Bob, as they sat, or rather,"flopped," down on the ground, exhausted, as were their comrades. "Ifyou haven't any, I have some I'll share with you."

  "I have some quiteness of vodah--I mean wat-ter--left," said Iggy."Und jolly much goot will she taste now."

  "You said something, pal!" declared a wounded soldier near by. "SomeFritzie put a slug through my canteen, and there isn't a drop in it,and I'm as dry as a boneless herring."

  "Here!" cried Bob, instantly offering his water flask. "Take as much asyou want. I can get more."

  "Don't be too positive of that, buddy," said the wounded man. "ButI certainly do appreciate a swallow of this. Guess I'm booked to goback," he said, as he looked at his mangled hand. Poor fellow! He neverwas to use it again.

  The scenes all about Bob and Iggy were too filled with horror to bearrepeating. Though the Americans had swept on victorious, driving theHuns before them and out of their trenches, yet it was at a price.Perhaps, from a military standpoint, not too heavy a price to pay forvictory, but still a price.

  There were dead, dying, and wounded men all about, and more backwhere the German resistance had been strongest. Bob and Iggy had comethrough the ordeal with nothing more than slight flesh wounds. Theywere sufficiently painful, but not serious enough to send them tothe hospital. Iggy had been scratched on the arm by a ragged bit ofshrapnel shell, and Bob had received a cut on the forehead by someflying missile.

  And now came the blessed relief from the toil and the struggle, fromthe sweat and the blood of the battle.

  "Cease firing!" had sounded, most welcome signal, and the men who wereleft alive, many of them wounded, began to think of other things thankilling and trying to escape from being killed.

  They sat or sprawled about, some panting to get back the breath thatwas so nearly spent. Others began to eat some of their emergencyrations and to drink water from their canteens.

  "Did you see anything of Roger and Jimmy?" asked Bob, when he hadrecovered something of his spent energies.

  "Yes. I see tham run like what you say--Old Harry--over by that way,"and Iggy pointed to the left. "Then came a big shell and so much dustand smoke that I of see tham no more."

  "Say, I hope that shell didn't do for 'em!" exclaimed Bob. "Didn't yousee anything of 'em after that?" he asked anxiously.

  "Oh, that shell did not tham keel," declared Iggy. "Oh, no! I see thamwhen the smoke of it went up, and so sure I am that they was not keeledby these shell. But maybe they was keeled by some other."

  "Yes, that's always the chance in this business," returned Bobgloomily. "Well, we'll soon know. If they're alive they'll join us, nodoubt."

  "De soonest de bester," declared Iggy.

  Perhaps there is no more trying time to fighting men than just aftera big battle. The excitement that forced them on against the odds ofdeath in many forms has subsided, and there is the reaction. Perhapsthis reaction is even greater after victory than after defeat. For inthe latter case there is still the incentive of hurrying on, often toavoid capture, and this need of haste provides the excitement thatprevents too much thinking.

  But after a terrific and bloody engagement, such as that through whichBob and Iggy had just passed, and when victory has come, there oftenfollows a reaction caused by the thought of the brave ones who, bytheir lives or by horrible wounds, have helped pay the price of thesuccess of those who live and who come after.

  And it was thoughts like these that filled the hearts and minds of theKhaki Boys and their comrades with gloom as they recovered themselvesafter the fighting.

  "Say, when are we going to get some hot soup?" one lad asked.

  "What flavor do you want?" shouted a companion.

  "Oh, I'm not particular. Strawberry or vanilla--just so long as it'shot."

  "Fat chance you have of getting soup!" declared a veteran. "Lucky, ifyou have a crust and some muddy water."

  There was a laugh at the talk, and then some one produced a batteredmouth organ. As if by magic, many who heard the not unmusical strainsforgot their weariness and joined in a popular song. Some of thewounded even tried to sing, and it greatly raised the spirits of allwithin sound of the simple melody.

  "Good work, boys! Keep it up!" cried a captain, as he hurried by on hisway to dispatch messengers to the rear. "Sometimes a song's as good asa cup of coffee!"

  Soon the stretcher bearers began their grisly tasks, and after thewounded had been cared for the work of burying the dead had to bebegun. Many negroes were employed in this sad task, and be it said tothe credit of these men and their brothers who took active parts in thefighting, that they proved themselves to be worthy of great praise andconfidence.

  Not much time could be spared for mere sitting around, or "loafing," onthe part of the unwounded fighters. Even those, like Bob and Iggy, whohad slight hurts, were expected to turn in and help now.

  It was necessary to consolidate the positions gained after such severefighting and such sacrifices, and while the German trenches wereoccupied by some of the American forces, it was needful to dig more,to plan dugouts, and to put up new barbed-wire entanglements.

  For the Boches might be expected to make a counter-attack at any time,though it was believed they were so badly demoralized for the presentthat there would be no immediate resumption of hostilities on thisparticular sector.

  And so, after a brief rest, Bob and Iggy, having partaken of some oftheir rations and some water, began to dig with pick and shovel; alabor that was shared by many of their chums.

  It was almost night when the needful precautions had been taken againsta surprise, and then the men were delighted to hear that some kitchenoutfits had come up and that hot food would shortly be served.

  "And, oh boy, what won't I do to it!" cried Bob. "I've got an appetitelike a house afire!"

  "Me, I am of a hunger, too," said Iggy. "But wish you not, Bob, datRoger and Jimmy might be with us?"

  "Do I wish it? I say I do!" cried Bob. "However, they may blow in atany moment. Maybe they've taken a lot of prisoners and have to escort'em to the rear."

  "I hope so," murmured Iggy.

  "Only, if that's the case," went on Bob, "I hope it doesn't turn out asit did with Franz. We don't want Rodge and Jimmy captured and taken tosome prison camp."

  "Not!" declared Iggy with emphasis. But, had they known it, the plightof Roger and Jimmy at that moment could not have been much worse hadthey been in some Hun stockade.

  Night came and passed, and there was no sign of, nor word from, the twomissing ones. Bob and Iggy looked at one another the next morning, andthere was fear and worry in their eyes.

  "Where you think they be?" asked Iggy.

  "I don't know," confessed Bob. "It looks as bad for them as it haslooked for some time for Schnitz. But we must keep on hoping. Ifthey're dead we'll know that soon enough--worse luck. But if they arelisted as missing--well, what's the use?"

  Iggy slowly shook his head.

  "We of first was five Brothers," he said. "Then Franz go, and we wasfour. Now two more iss go and we iss two. Two left, only. Py jolly,maybe soon we iss only one!"