"Here!" was the answer, and in the darkness Jack felt his chum
collide with him so forcefully that both almost went down in a heap.
"I jumped to get away from a Hun bayonet," pantingly explained Tom.
Jack's grenade exploded, blowing dirt and small stones in the faces
of the chums. There were shouts and cries, in English, French and
German. The American lieutenant tried to rally his men around him,
but, as was afterward learned, they were attacked by a much larger
party of Huns than their patrol.
"We must stick together!" cried Jack to Tom. "If we separate we're
lost! Where are the others?"
"Sam Zalbert was with me a second ago," answered Tom, naming a lad
with whom he and Jack had become quite friendly. "But I saw him
fall. I don't know whether he slipped or was hurt. Look out!" he
suddenly shouted.
He saw two Germans rushing at him and Jack, with leveled revolvers.
There was no time to get another grenade from their pockets, and Tom
did the next best thing. He made a tackle, football fashion, at the
legs of the Germans, which he could see very plainly in the light of
many star shells that were now being sent up.
Almost at the same instant Jack, seeing his chum's intention,
followed his example, and the two Huns went down in a heap, falling
over the heads of their antagonists with many a German imprecation.
Their weapons flew from their hands.
"Come on! This is getting too hot for us!" cried Jack, as he
scrambled to his feet, followed by Tom.
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