CHAPTER XXV
A GALLANT EXPLOIT
Crouched, tense, ready for the word, the American lads faced the foe.A thrill of impatience ran through them as the enemy came nearer.
Were they to wait there, until that grey wave overwhelmed them, pouringinto the trenches like a surging flood?
The strain of waiting was becoming almost unbearable.
The captain shouted a command, and up they scrambled like hounds freedfrom the leash. But just as their leader reached the top he fellheadlong, stricken by a bullet.
For a moment the men waited, uncertain, hardly knowing what to do.Frank sensed the hesitation and like lightning he acted.
It was no time to consider rank with that grey mass surging on. Abovethe noise his voice rang out like a trumpet.
"Come on, boys!" he shouted. "Over the top and at them!"
At the same instant he leaped forward and his comrades followed. Onthey rushed like an avalanche let loose. They were at Yankee fightingpitch.
All the pent-up rage that had been gathering for months leaped to thefore. The fire that had stirred their ancestors at Bunker Hill andGettysburg burst into flame.
Wounds? They scorned them. Death? They laughed at it!
On they went like so many vikings. Faster, faster, rushing, pouringonward--until with tremendous force they fell like a thunderbolt uponthe advancing ranks.
Into that grey mass they forced their way, shooting, thrusting,stabbing. And when their guns were empty, or they could not use theirbayonets, they grasped the weapons and swung them about their headslike flails.
There was a red mist before their eyes and red patches on their tunics.Some of them fell but the others kept on stabbing, hacking, hewingtheir way into the solid mass until that mass, veteran, as it was,wavered and broke before the wild, irresistible charge.
Slowly at first, then more swiftly, the enemy retreated, pursued to thevery edge of their trenches by the American boys, who, having tastedblood, were not to be denied.
They would have gone further but this was not in the plan of theircommanders, for the enemy's guns had got the range and a murderous firewas being laid down.
The enemy had had a trouncing that he would not soon forget. Therecall sounded, and the American boys turned back, reluctantly,gathering up their wounded comrades as they came.
Frank had been separated from his chums in the wild melee, and hisfirst thought as he neared the home trench was for their safety. Hisrelief was great when he found them, blackened, panting, their clothingriddled, but they themselves unharmed, except for a slight wound thatTom had received from a bullet that scarcely more than grazed his arm.
Now that the reaction was upon them, they felt unspeakably weary, fornerve and brawn had been taxed to the utmost. But in their eyes glowedthe light of victory. They had met the veteran troops of the Kaiserand given them a taste of Yankee mettle.
It was their first battle and they had borne themselves like men.
Once more in the trenches and Tom's slight wound attended to, theypeered curiously over the scene of battle. They shuddered as theylooked, for there were still forms lying there that had not been therewhen the battle began. Who of their own number had gone? Who fromthat group of jolly, eager, vigorous young manhood with whom they hadbeen living and training for weeks and months--those whom they had cometo like and respect as they toiled and pleasured side by side in thecamp and in the trenches?
And yet, not one of those who had come back alive from that awfulfield, where had been left some of their comrades, but would havegladly given his own life that selfishness, arrogance, and brutalityshould not conquer and rule in this world.
But they took comfort from the fact that despite their own losses,which had been numerous, the greater proportion of those still formswere German.
The enemy's gun fire was still sending a rain of death across theintervening space and the American guns were answering with equal vigor.
It seemed as though no living thing could endure on that infernal plain.
Suddenly Frank's keen eyes detected a movement on the part of one ofthe apparently lifeless bodies and he gave a sharp exclamation.
"Look there, Bart!" he said. "There's a man still alive. See how he'strying to get up on his elbow--and he's one of our men, too. That is,he's French--I can tell by his uniform," he added in great excitement,as the light from a bursting star shell threw a ghastly radiance overthe field.
The next instant he was clambering up the side of the trench.
"Frank! Frank!" cried Bart desperately, clutching at him. "What areyou doing? Where are you going? It's certain death out there!"
"I'm going, Bart," gritted Frank between his teeth as he tore away fromhis friend's grasp, and leaped over the top!
An instant more and he was on his hands and knees, making his waytoward the stricken man who was about twenty yards distant.
Around him bullets rained. A pain shot through his shoulder as thoughhe had been stabbed by a red hot knife, but he kept on doggedly,reached the wounded man and tried to lift him to his feet.
But the effort was futile for the man sank back with a groan. Like aflash Frank's muscular arms lifted him, threw him over his shoulder andstaggering, tripping, stumbling, yet somehow keeping his feet, hereached the edge of the trench.
A dozen eager hands relieved him of his burden and then he himselftumbled in, to be caught by Bart and Billy.
What happened in the next half hour, Frank scarcely knew. The wound inhis shoulder though not serious had bled freely, and his tremendousefforts had taxed his strength to the utmost.
His surprise was great when, having had his wound attended to, he wasushered into the presence of the man he had saved.
"Why, it is Colonel Pavet!" he gasped. Of course the French militaryman was equally amazed.
"It is fate!" he cried. "Fate, nothing less, my brave boy! How can Iever thank you!"
"You don't have to thank me," returned Frank modestly.
"But I shall," and the French colonel grasped the young soldier's handtightly. He was still very weak and spoke with difficulty.
"I am glad it was you, Sir," remarked the army boy.
"It is fate, I tell you," murmured the colonel. "When I am well Ishall tell you more. I have heard from Auvergne, and all about the DeLatour estate, which is in the courts. You may have a fight to getyour rights, but--I am your friend. I shall fight for you and yourmother."
"Then you think my mother's chances are good?" questioned Frank eagerly.
"I am certain of it," was the colonel's low reply. Then he had to stoptalking, by the doctor's orders.
And what was done in the near future to recover the estate, and howFrank and his chum did their further duty as American soldiers, will betold in the next volume, to be entitled: "Army Boys in the FrenchTrenches; Or, Hand to Hand Fights with the Enemy."
When Frank came back to camp his friends hailed him as a veritable hero.
"You're the goods!" cried Billy.
"All wool and a yard wide!" came from Tom.
"And American to the backbone, don't forget that!" added Bart.
THE END
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