"Well, we've got a better chance now," said Jimmy, with an assumption of cheerfulness, when they were thrust into the barbed wire enclosure.

"A better chance for what?" asked Bob.

"To escape," was the answer, "It's a common occurrence for prisoners to get out of German prison camps, though I won't say that they all get back to their friends. Anyhow, we'll try the first chance we get."

There was one advantage of being in the prison camp, and away from the dungeon that was partly underground. The air and light were better, and the food was somewhat improved, though it was far from being good, satisfying, or even decent.

But the natural healthfulness of the boys kept them up, and they soon recovered from the slight wounds and bruises caused by the fight during which they were captured.

"Heard of any chance to escape?" asked Roger, when they had been in the camp about two weeks.

"No, though there is talk of digging under the barbed wire and a lot of the men going out," Jimmy answered. "You want to hold out and hide all the food you can. Well need it if we do get away."

His advice was followed, and, though the prisoners did not get much more than enough to keep them alive, the three boys managed to hide some scraps of bread and a bit of what was called "sausage," though it was made mostly from the meal of peas and beans.

As Jimmy had said, there was a plot, hatched among some of the English prisoners, to break out of the prison camp. But before there was a chance to put it into operation Fate stepped in and gave her aid—that is, it was aid for some, and death for others.

Not far from the German prison camp was a German ammunition dump, and one night there passed over it a raiding squadron, though whether of French, American or English airmen could not be learned by our heroes.

At any rate several bombs were dropped and one, either more accurately placed than the others, or falling more luckily, fell on the dump and it went up in a terrible and fearful burst of powder and shell.

The concussion caused several of the prison camp buildings to collapse, and a number of Russians were killed. The barbed and charged wires about the camp were torn loose and then it was that Jimmy saw his chance—a chance taken by many of the captives.

"Come on!" he shouted to Roger and Bob, as they awoke in the darkness and confusion, hardly knowing what had happened. It seemed like the end of the world.

Out rushed the three Brothers, catching up their few belongings and the precious packets of food they had hoarded against just such a chance as this, though they had not hoped for it so soon.

The Germans were in such confusion, and such havoc had been caused among them when the ammunition dump went up, that they had no time, then, to look to their prisoners. Consequently the unfortunate men who had been kept in the horrible camp scattered to the four winds, eager to make their way back to their own lines.

Jimmy, Bob and Roger formed a little party among themselves. They had only a general notion of which direction to take, but again Fate seemed to help them, for they were not stopped all that night. They tramped on, taking the most unfrequented ways, stumbling on in the darkness and on the alert for a sight of German soldiers. But the attack of the Allied airships, and the consequent destruction of a great pile of German shells, had caused such havoc back of the Hun lines that for several hours all was in confusion.

"It's getting daylight," murmured Bob, as he and his two chums were limping down a road. Limping is the correct term, for their own good army shoes had been taken from them and replaced by German apologies, with paper soles, which now were all but gone.

"What shall we do?" asked Roger.

"Keep on until we see something to stop us," advised Jimmy. "We are going toward our own lines, I think, or where our lines used to be, though there may have been a lot of changes since we were caught."

"Can't we stop and get a drink?" panted Bob. "My tongue is like a piece of that leathery stuff the Germans gave us and called meat. I've got to drink!"

It was light enough now to disclose a small stream not far away. Looking about to make sure no Germans were in the vicinity, Jimmy led the way toward it. A drink of water and the eating of some of their scanty stock of food would put new life in them.

They reached the water safely, near a small clump of trees. They drank, and though the fluid seemed half mud never was there a sweeter draught to parched throats and dry mouths. Then, as they were about to open their rude packets of food. Bob clutched Jimmy's arm.

"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing off to the left.

"A searching party!" gasped Jimmy. Then Roger saw at what his chums were gazing—a squad of German soldiers under the command of an officer, and they were marching straight toward the clump of trees where our heroes hoped to stay and eat!

"Quick!" cried Jimmy. "Burrow down in the leaves and dirt! If they see us we'll be shot on sight as escaping prisoners! No chance for quarter! Burrow down!"

And amid the dirt and dead leaves of the little patch of woods the boys scratched shallow hiding places for themselves, stuffing their food inside their shirts.

They were only just in time, for no sooner were they as well covered as they could manage in the hurry than the Germans came tramping into the little grove.

However, they did not seem to be acting on any precise information, as presently, after a cursory search in the grove, they left, and the boys breathed easier again.

"Shall we chance it now?" whispered Bob to Jimmy, cautiously raising his head from the hole amid the leaves.

"Wait a bit," advised his chum. And, in ten minutes more, when it seemed that the party of Huns must be far enough away, the lads emerged.

"Close call!" murmured Bob, brushing off some of the dirt. "But I guess we can eat now—such stuff as we have! Say, Roger, did you—"

He paused, to gaze in the direction where Roger was looking. And Jimmy, attracted by the attitude, gazed also. And they saw a strange sight.

Marching away, for which the three Brothers felt great relief, was the searching part of Germans. But this was not at what Roger was looking. It was the sight of a man, in a German uniform, seated on a fallen log at the edge of the clump of trees. The man was looking over some papers, and he must have been there when the searching party passed. Perhaps he had been with them.

"Look! Look!" murmured Roger. "It's the captain again. Captain Frank Dickerson—the officer who saved our lives at the red mill; and he's in a German uniform!"



CHAPTER XXI

BACK WITH FRIENDS

There was no doubt of it. So dramatic had been the circumstances under which they had first seen this strange man that the boys would never forget his face. He was dressed differently now—in an unmistakable uniform of the Germans—but it was the same man.

"What in the world is he doing here?" demanded Bob.

"There can be only one answer to that question," said Jimmy, and his voice was low and intense.

"And what is the answer?" Roger wanted to know.

"He's a German spy!" was the declaration.

"When he saved us at the burning mill he was in an American uniform. And now he is in German uniform. He's a spy!"

"He's in German uniform all right, there's no question of that" declared Bob. "But what makes you think he is a spy—I mean a German spy, Jimmy?"

"Because he was within our lines, or close to them, in a uniform that was calculated to appear like one of ours. And, instead of going back with us to help us find our own command, he hiked off in the direction of the Huns. And now he's here again."

"But maybe he's a regular German, though he didn't talk much like one," suggested Bob. "I mean the time he saved us at the mill. He might be a decent, human sort of German—and he couldn't bear to see us roasted to death. Maybe that's why he saved us. Of course, I remember he acted queerly, and—"

"I don't know why he saved us," declared Jimmy. "But I believe he's a German spy, and he was close to, if not actually within, our lines, trying to get information. And if he's a spy he ought to be hanged for it—that's the punishment of all spies."

"Yes, hanging isn't any too good, for a German spy," agreed Roger.

"And if we ever get the chance we'll denounce this fellow," went on Jimmy. "We can tell how we saw him in an American uniform, or part of it, near the red mill, and now he wears a German outfit. Hanging won't match his crime."

"And yet," said Bob slowly, "it would be sort of hard to denounce him." "Why?" asked Jimmy quickly.

"Because he saved our lives," was the quick answer. "Of course, we'll have to denounce him, fellows, if we get the chance. But it will go hard. He saved our lives!"

Jimmy was silent a moment, as he gazed out amid the trees in the direction of the German searching party and the officer seated, looking over some papers. Then Jimmy said, slowly:

"Yes, he saved our lives!"

The three hardly knew what to do. And yet, now, there seemed to be but one thing—they must make all haste in the direction of the American lines. At any moment the searching squad might come back, or another might make its appearance, for the Germans would not let the inmates of the prison camp get away without an effort to bring them back.

"Well, this Captain Dickerson has an American name all right, and he may be a German spy," said Bob. "But he isn't within the American lines just at present, so he has a right to wear a German uniform I suppose. Remember how he hesitated about giving his name? Maybe he made one up."

"He won't wear that uniform long if any of our boys catch him!" declared Jimmy. "Look here, fellows. His saving of our lives was a fine thing, and we can never forget it. But, at the same time, duty is duty, and our highest duty is not to the man toward whom we feel so grateful, but toward our own army and the boys of the Five Hundred and Ninth. If we ever get back to our friends we'll have to denounce Captain Frank Dickerson, or whoever that fellow it. That's all there is to it"

"I—I guess you're right," agreed Bob, slowly. "It's tough, but it has to be done!"

"If we get the chance!" added Roger.

"Of course! If we get the chance," agreed Jimmy. "Mind, I don't say that we actually have to give him up, or capture him," he added. "That would be too much. But it's our duty to tell what we have seen."

The others nodded their heads.

"We haven't a chance to capture him now." Jimmy resumed. "He's armed, and we're not. Besides, even if we three could overpower him, he might signal to the Germans who were just here. No, all we can do is to wait and see what happens. And the first thing we'd better do is to get out of this neighborhood. It isn't healthy!"

They looked once more in the direction of "Captain Frank Dickerson," as he had called himself. He had folded up his papers and was about to rise from the log.

"Duck, fellows! He's looking this way!" hoarsely whispered Bob, and the boys dropped behind a fallen tree.

The officer in the German uniform did, indeed, look toward the woods, but he made no advance that way, and presently walked off in the direction taken by the searching party which had been so close to the three former captives, evidently without knowing it.

"And now we'll make tracks the other way," decided Jimmy, and they put some distance between themselves and the man they believed a spy before they halted to eat.

"I'm glad I didn't have my five thousand francs with me when we fell into the hands of the Germans," said Sergeant Jimmy, as they sat and rested after the rather meager meal.

"Why?" asked Bob. "Maybe you could have bought some food, by bribing a guard."

"Not a chance!" was the answer. "The Huns would have taken every cent. No, I don't mind Maxwell having it—even if he's skipped with it, or if he's missing with it in his pockets. That's better than having German jailers take it. But I guess we'll never see the sergeant or the money again."

"It doesn't look so," agreed Roger. "Well, it's the fortune of war, I reckon. But have we any chance of seeing our friends again?"

"We'll make a big try," declared Jimmy.

Of the miseries of the next two days the Khaki Boys never like to talk afterward. They ate all their food, and were still hungry. They managed to find some raw turnips which they devoured, declaring, in their hunger, that they were the best meal they had ever eaten. Fortunately they managed to find water, though they had to drink it by stealth for they were like hunted animals, making their way through a country held and devastated by a cruel foe. They hid most of the day and traveled by night, not knowing whether or not they were going in the right direction.

But they kept moving, though, at times, Bob, who seemed worse off than either of his chums, said he must give up. But Jimmy and Roger fairly dragged him on.

One day, when it seemed that they must lie down in a field and give up, they saw, coming over the top of the hill, a party of soldiers. It was getting dusk, and they could hardly distinguish the uniforms.

"If it's Germans I'm too tired to run," said Bob, weakly. "Let 'em take us!"

"I will not!" declared Jimmy fiercely. "I'll fight 'em with stones, and die fighting, rather than go back to a prison camp!"

"I'm with you!" cried Roger, and this attitude on the part of his chums seemed to rouse Bob.

Each one selected a large stone, though whether they really would have used them in their desperation I can not say. But in a moment all was changed.

The three figures, standing together in the field, attracted the attention of the officer leading the party of soldiers. He gave a sharp command, and at the sound of the words Jimmy cried:

"They're English! They're English! Hurrah, fellows! We're with friends once more!" And he ran forward followed by his chums.

It was true. A party of English soldiers, sent out to get some information, had come upon the three escaping prisoners, and, a little later, Bob, Roger and Jimmy were being well cared for while they told their story of what had happened.

"And so we blew their nasty dump to bits; eh, lad?" asked an English lieutenant, or "leftenant," as they are called.

"Yes," assented Jimmy.

"A little bit of hall right, I call that!" commented a cockney sergeant.

So weak and exhausted were our friends that they had to stay in the English billets several days before they could be sent under escort to their own command. And you may imagine better than I can describe it the joy of Franz and Iggy when they welcomed their Brothers once more.

"It's like having you back from the dead," declared Franz, with tears in his eyes as he held the hands of the three friends.

"Better even, for alife they is!" exclaimed Iggy. "I home a letter will write saying not to read the other what I sent."

"What other?" asked Bob.

"Oh, he wrote one saying you had been captured and that he was going to hike into German territory and find you the first chance he had," explained Franz.

"Sure I would go, but now not," declared Iggy. "I home write annudder letter soon."

"It was good of you to think of us," said Jimmy. "And now tell us about yourselves. Are you all right? Have you done any fighting, and have you heard anything of Maxwell and our missing money?"

"Oh, have a heart!" laughed Franz. "You're worse than an intelligence officer wanting to know the results of a trench raid. But we're all right, as far as that goes."

"Except we wos of broken hearted yes for fears of you," put in Iggy.

"Sure we were worried to death," agreed Franz. "There didn't seem to be a chance for you. As for fighting, well we haven't done much, though I hear there's a big battle about to come off. And as for Maxwell, we haven't heard a word."

It was one afternoon when the five Brothers were in a dugout, awaiting orders to go on duty for the night, that Jimmy bethought himself of the sight they had had of the mysterious captain.

"We didn't tell Franz and Iggy about him," he remarked to Roger and Bob.

"No. Go ahead with the story," said Bob. "Maybe they can throw some light on it."

But Franz and Iggy—though the latter did not say much—could offer no explanation save that put forth by Jimmy and the two lads who had seen what he had seen—that Captain Frank Dickerson was a German spy.

The night passed without incident of moment, except for two false alarms that the Germans were starting a general engagement. And in the morning, after breakfast, the long-looked-for word came.

"It's the advance!" was the general cry. "We're going forward and pinch out the German salient!"

There was one on this sector—a salient, or wedge, driven into the American line, or, rather, one that had existed since the Americans had taken over this particular part of the country.

"Now for the big battle!" cried Bob.

"And may it soon bring the end of the war!" added Roger.

Jimmy marched along with his chums, going to take charge of a squad that would be among the leaders of the advance. And, as he passed a group of American officers, saluting as he did so, his heart almost stopped beating. For standing in their midst, and conversing earnestly with them, was Captain Frank Dickerson, and this time he wore the uniform of an American officer, with the two bars denoting his captaincy!



CHAPTER XXII

FIERCE FIGHTING

Jimmy's astonishment at seeing the man they had called a German spy was duplicated by his companions. With one accord they halted and stood staring at the captain who had saved their lives. On his part he did not see them, apparently. He stood there talking with other officers as calmly and coolly as though nothing worried him.

"There he is!" exclaimed Bob.

"No question about it!" said Roger.

"The dog!" fairly hissed Franz. "And to think he's going to betray our secrets to the Huns!"

"Not if I can help it!" declared Jimmy, and there was firm resolve in his voice.

"What are you going to do?" asked Roger, though he could almost guess the answer of his chum.

"Come over here," said Jimmy Blaise to the otter Brothers. It was time they should be marching up on their way to the front to take part in the big advance. But there was also vital necessity of action at this juncture. And so many soldiers and officers were hurrying along that the temporary halt of Jimmy and his bunkies would not be noticed.

"Don't we to fight go?" asked Iggy, somewhat puzzled by the halt. "I mine gun haf und many bullets. To fight it is my idea, yes."

"You've got the right idea!" declared Bob. "We'll be fighting soon enough. But Iggy, do you see that fellow over there?" and he pointed to Captain Dickerson.

"Sure I see him. Him was the man what saved us at the fire."

"Exactly. And he went over toward the Germans, didn't he?"

"I thinks me he did," admitted Iggy.

"When did you see him last?" asked Franz, as if this was a trial and he had the examination of witnesses in hand.

"We saw him between our lines and the German forces, and he wore a German uniform," declared Bob.

"And now he wears an American outfit," added Roger.

"That settles it!" declared Roger. "The verdict is unanimous. Captain Dickerson, as he calls himself, is a spy, and it's our duty to denounce him!"

"Yes," said Sergeant Jimmy, "he saved our lives—there's no doubt about it. But he's a spy. It breaks my heart to do it, but duty is duty! We'll have to expose him!"

He looked at Roger and Bob. Solemnly and mournfully they nodded their heads in assent.

"I don't know as much about it as you three fellows do," said Franz, "but it sounds as though you'd have to. Tough luck, but it's got to be done."

"How about you, Iggy?" asked Bob.

"I fights mit youse," said the Polish lad simply, "and what you says I say!"

"That ends it!" went on Jimmy. "I'd rather lose ten times five thousand francs than do this, but—well, let's get it over with, and then we'll jump into the fight and try to forget it."

He walked up to the group of officers, in the midst of which still stood the captain. Jimmy saluted Major Wrightson, the senior officer then present, and when the latter looked at the lad, seeing that he had something to say, Jimmy spoke:

"My comrades and I," he said, indicating his four Brothers, "wish to denounce that man as a German spy!" He spoke quietly, and pointed an accusing finger at Captain Dickerson.

"What's that?" cried the major, in great surprise.

Jimmy repeated his statement, and as he did so he kept his eyes on the face of the accused. The latter smiled faintly, but did not seem at all alarmed.

"Have you any evidence to support this amazing statement?" asked the major.

"Plenty," answered Jimmy, and then, briefly, he told what he and his chums had seen. During the dramatic recital, which was corroborated at several points by Roger and Bob, as well as Franz and Iggy, the captain never said a word. He continued calmly smoking a cigarette he had lighted.

"Can this be possible?" exclaimed a lieutenant, and he seemed to shrink away from Captain Dickerson.

"Have you anything to say regarding the accusation of these lads, Captain Dickerson?" asked the major, at length.

The accused flicked away the end of his cigarette. He looked at the boys, smiling cynically, and then answered calmly:

"No, I have nothing to say!"

"It is my duty—my painful duty—to order you under arrest then," said the major. "And it breaks my heart to do it. You were once my lieutenant and—"

Emotion overcame him, but he signaled to a captain, who summoned two orderlies, and in charge of these Captain Dickerson was led away under arrest.

"This matter will be taken up later, Sergeant Blaise," said the major. "It will have to wait until after the battle. He might better have been killed in action a dozen times than have this happen," he added rather ambiguously. "This is terrible!"

"It was hard to do this, after he had saved our lives," said Jimmy, "but it had to be."

"Yes," assented the major brokenly, "it had to be. And now let's forget it in giving battle to the Huns! It's up to us to redeem whatever wrong he may have done," and he nodded in the direction of the captain, who had been led away under arrest.

"He took it calmly enough," remarked Bob, as the five Brothers marched away.

"Never turned a hair," added Roger. "But you've got to have nerve to be a spy."

"I suppose they'll shoot him," observed Franz. "They don't have time for hanging any more. He'll face a firing squad all right."

"It's too bad!" declared Jimmy. "But it had to be. I'll say this for him—he's a brave man to venture back here, when he might be sure he'd be exposed—if not by us by some one else. Yes, he's a brave man!"

It was with no very light hearts, at first, that Jimmy and his chums marched on toward the front lines where they had been ordered to take their places for the general advance. The scene of the last half-hour preyed on their minds. But they were satisfied that they had done their duty.

"What's the program, sir!" asked Jimmy, as he reported to his second lieutenant.

"Well, we're going forward just as soon as our barrage gets in working order," was the answer. "I expect that will be any minute, now. See to it that every man in your squad has his gas mask, his pick and shovel, his canteen and mess gear. We may be several days under fire, and the supply wagons won't be able to get up if the Huns start shelling the roads, as they're likely to."

"Yes, sir," answered Jimmy, saluting. Then he and his chums put in several busy minutes.

Jimmy, Roger and Franz, as sergeants, would each have charge of a squad to lead into the fight, and in Jimmy's squad were Bob and Iggy, the corporals.

"Everything in readiness here?" asked the young lieutenant who had given Jimmy, Roger and Franz their orders. He came along the trench, glancing now and then at his wrist watch to note the approach of the hour set for the beginning of the barrage.

"Everything ready, sir," reported Jimmy, and Roger and Franz repeated this.

"Very good. You won't have long to wait now."

The lieutenant passed on, making his observations. The five Brothers were talking in low tones, speculating on many things. They talked of what they had gone through in the past, for each one realized that there might be no future for him after this great battle that was pending. And they talked of the spy captain, of the missing Sergeant Maxwell, and other matters.

"If we live through this," Jimmy was saying, "I'm going to get leave and see if I can't find Maxwell. It isn't so much for the sake of the money as it is for him. He was a good friend to me."

"To all of us," declared Bob.

"Well, I can't imagine what has become of him," said Roger. "If he—"

There was no chance for further words, for at that moment it seemed as if all the thunderstorms from the beginning of the world to the present time had broken loose at once.

"It's our barrage!" cried Jimmy. "Get ready to go over and fight!"

And ten minutes later the five Brothers were in the midst of the most desperate struggle in which they had had a part since the start of the World War.



CHAPTER XXIII

THE LONELY HUT

And now it was that Jimmy and his chums were advancing across a dangerous stretch, protected by their own barrage. They rushed forward shouting, though it was hard for any one to hear his own voice, so terrific was the din.

There was little use in firing rifles now. The shrapnel from the American guns would take care of any Germans among which it fell. But when the barrage ceased, and the infantry would rush forward to try to take the Hun positions—then would come the most deadly fighting.

Forward, foot by foot, rushed the Khaki Boys, and on either side of them their bunkies also advanced. They were to go forward until their barrage ceased.

But it was not easy going after the first rush, for the Germans had awakened to the importance of the pending battle and they were now sending over a counter-barrage. With a roar that matched the opening chorus of the American guns, those of the Boche sent out their missiles of death.

And many of the shrapnel bullets, or pieces of exploding shells, found their marks. The ground was strewn with dead and dying, for the German barrage was meeting with and passing through that of the Americans.

Yet the advance never stopped. Company after company of khaki-clad youths and men rushed from the trenches and started across that vale of death. They advanced in battle formation—not too close together—for that offered too good a target for the machine-guns, and though many nests had been wiped out, many still remained.

Suddenly the awful ear-rending chorus on the American side died away as if by magic. The silence was almost as appalling as had been the terrific noise, for it portended more.

"Come, on!" cried the officers to their men. "Come on! Wipe out the Huns!"

And the men followed them to victory or death.

Jimmy found himself yelling and firing his rifle as rapidly as he could pull the trigger. For a moment the five Brothers, all together, seemed to be in comparative safety. But then bullets began to sing about their heads like angry wasps.

"Come on! Come on!" cried Jimmy, and no one faltered.

Suddenly, from a little mound of earth in front of the five, there came a sound as of some one tearing stiff cloth, or beating a drum more rapidly than one was ever beaten before. The Khaki Boys knew what it meant—a machine-gun nest.

Instinctively they dropped to earth, and the bullets flew over their heads. If they found living targets farther on the lads did not turn to see.

"We've got to wipe that out!" cried Jimmy.

"We're with you!" shouted Bob.

Franz, looking forward from between two little hummocks of earth, suddenly fired his rifle.

"There goes one Hun!" he exulted.

"And I got a second!" exclaimed Roger.

They were both good shots and each had gotten his enemy.

"Come on—rush 'em!" yelled Jimmy, jumping up. Bob attempted to pull his chum back, for it was almost certain death to stand up in front of a machine-gun emplacement. But it was too late. Jimmy had taken his chance, and he lived through it.

For a brief instant there was no firing from where the machine-gun was hidden and this was Jimmy's opportunity and that of his chums. With wild yells they leaped up and followed his lead.

A moment later they were fighting fiercely with half a dozen Germans who composed what was left of the automatic gun squad. The weapon appeared to be jammed, for one of the Huns was frantically working at the firing mechanism. And it was this same jamming, as was learned later, that, undoubtedly, saved the lives of Jimmy and his chums.

Roger shot pointblank at one Boche and Bob bayoneted another. Then the remainder raised their hands and cried: "Kamerad!"

"We haven't any time to take prisoners!" yelled Franz.

But they did not get the chance. The Germans left alive leaped out of the shallow pit in which the gun had been hidden, and ran toward the rear. But they had not gone far before they were wiped out of existence by the explosion of a shell which fell right on top of them.

"Come on! Come on!" cried Jimmy, when it was seen that the machine-gun was of no further use, since the weapon was damaged. Besides, the American advance would soon be up to this point and it would be within the Allied lines.

Forward leaped the five Brothers, into the midst of the fighting again. And it was hot and heavy. They would advance a little, firing as they went, and then would drop as they realized that they were getting too close to danger. After a moment's rest they would rush on again.

And these tactics were slowly but surely driving the Germans back. True, now and again the Huns rallied, and beat back their foes, but this was not for long. The overwhelming rush of the Americans kept up.

Once, after the battle had been raging with unabated fury for two hours, Jimmy and his chums, with some other brave lads, found themselves cut off in a sort of pocket, surrounded on three sides by Germans.

With exultant yells a squad of Boches rushed up to capture the hated Americans, but the five Brothers never quailed. They fired their rifles straight into the faces of their enemies, killing several, and then a counter-attack by a large number of Uncle Sam's boys turned the tide of the fighting at that particular place, and our heroes were saved.

With rattle and roar, with sweat and blood, the big battle raged. At one time it seemed as if the American advance would be held up because of determined resistance of the Germans on the crest of a certain hill. This was stormed again and again without result. But at last the position was flanked, and the Huns wiped out. Then the American line was made straighter and the battle began to lull. The foe was in retreat.

"Dig in! Dig in!" came the command.

With their picks and shovels Jimmy and his chums, as well as the other fighters, began to scoop out for themselves shallow holes in the ground. And when these had been made as deep as was desired the five Brothers, who had come through the fierce fighting with but minor scratches, had a chance to look about them.

They were down in a little valley, the heights of which were held by their comrades, and so they were comparatively safe, for a while. Realizing this they began to think of food and water. They had very little left in their canteens, and as there was a stream, not far away Jimmy and his chums received permission to go to fill their canteens and bring some to the wounded.

As they finished this work of mercy, and had taken some water themselves, Jimmy saw, through an opening among the trees, a lonely hut not far from the bank of the little brook.

"Wonder if anyone is in there?" he said. "It might have been a German machine-gun nest—just the place for one."

"There may be one there yet," suggested Bob. "Let's take a look. We've got time."

The idea appealed to all, and, a few minutes later, secure in the knowledge that the Germans were on the retreat, our heroes entered the lonely shack. It appeared to have been the home of some French farmer, though now everything about the place was laid waste.

"Nobody at home, I guess," commented Jimmy, as he went from one room to another.

"No machine-gun been here," declared Bob.

At that instant an unmistakable groan was heard. The boys fairly jumped.

"Some one's here now, that's evident!" declared Jimmy, starting toward a small bedroom, whence, it was evident, the groan had sounded.

"Look out for a trick!" cried Roger. "The place may be mined!"

But Jimmy kept on. A second later his chums heard him shout from the inner room, and rushing to his side they saw him gazing at a figure huddled on a small cot bed.

"There he is!" cried Jimmy, pointing. "There he is! We've found him at last!"

"Who?" asked Franz.

"Sergeant Maxwell!" was the startling answer. "There he is!"

And as the others looked more closely they saw that Jimmy was right.



CHAPTER XXIV

A GLORIOUS VICTORY

"How did he get here?"

"What happened to him?"

"Is he wounded?"

These were some of the questions that were, literally, fired at Jimmy as he stood over the cot on which reposed the wasted and scarcely recognizable form of Sergeant Maxwell. Jimmy's chums asked these questions of him because, I suppose, they thought he ought to know the answers.

"I don't know any more how poor Max got here, or what happened to him, than you fellows do," said Jimmy.

"Is he hurt?" asked Bob.

"I'll ask him," said Jimmy. Bending over the form of the sergeant, who was now tossing restlessly to and fro, Jimmy inquired: "Do you know us, Max? Are you hurt? What happened to you?" An incoherent murmur was the only answer.

"He's in a fever," said Roger, as he held his hand against the flushed face. "He ought to be taken to the hospital!"

"Give him some water," suggested Franz, holding out his full canteen.

Jimmy raised his friend's head and Bob managed to get a little water between the parched lips.

"Good! Good! I wanted water!" murmured the man somewhat indistinctly. "I've wanted water a long time."

"Do you know us? I'm Jimmy Blazes, and here's Bob, Roger, Iggy and Franz," said Jimmy. "Do you know us! Can you tell us where you've been all this while, and what happened to you!"

"Good water! Good water!" was all the reply that came from poor Maxwell.

"He's out of his head," said Bob.

"We'd better send a doctor if we can find one, or get him to a hospital," suggested Roger.

"You go see if you can find any stretcher bearers, or a doctor or anyone like that," suggested Jimmy to Franz and Iggy. "We'll stay with him. Or Bob and I will. You'd better go report to the captain where we are, Roger. He might think we've deserted."

Bob and Jimmy, left with Maxwell, made him as comfortable as they could, washing his face and giving him more water to drink. But he answered none of their questions, murmuring only about the cool water. He was in a delirium of fever.

Of course Jimmy did not ask about the missing money. It would have been useless at this time. But, naturally, he wondered if the sergeant knew where it was.

Franz and Iggy came back with a doctor who, after a brief examination, said the sergeant was suffering from bad treatment and lack of food and water more than anything else. He did not seem to be wounded, but, of course, there might be some internal hurt which did not show at the first examination.

"Hospital's the place for him," decided the doctor. "Ill have him sent back with the first batch of wounded."

And so poor Maxwell was rescued from the oblivion of "missing," and again put on his company's rolls. But the mystery about him was not solved, and over it Jimmy and his chums wondered much.

"Well, things have certainly turned out queerly!" remarked Jimmy, when he and his chums were back once more in their "holes," eating their emergency rations, and wondering when the real "chow" would come up. "To thing of finding Max like that!"

"That place was held by the Germans before we rushed them back," declared Bob. "They might have kept him a prisoner."

"That's very possible," admitted Jimmy. "I'd like to know the whole story, but we'll have to wait."

"And a long time, I'm afraid," added Roger.

"Why, do you think Max will die?" asked Franz.

"No, but this fight has only just started. We've got to go forward, and land knows when we'll ever get back where we can see Max again."

"Oh, well, it isn't as hopeless as it was at first," remarked Jimmy. "I'm not worrying about the thousand dollars—only I'd like to know what he did with it."

As Roger had said, the fighting was not over. Before an order came to turn the "holes" into trenches, another advance was ordered, so that the Germans might be driven, if possible, from the vicinity of the hills dominating the valley in which was located the hut where Maxwell had been found.

"Forward!" came the battle cry again, and once more our heroes joined the advance.

This time, however, the fighting was not quite so fierce. The Germans had had a taste of the kind of medicine dealt out by the Americans, and the Huns had no liking for it.

True, they did not give up without a struggle, and many a poor lad went to his death, or came back from the front with a leg or arm missing, as a result of the renewal of hostilities. But it had to be. It would not have been safe to allow the Germans to have a chance to get back the dominating hills won at such cost.

And there the storm of blood and steel was renewed with fiercer energy, until at last, just as night was settling down, the German flank was turned, and they began to retreat in what ultimately was a rout.

"A glorious victory! A glorious victory!" was shouted from all sides in the American ranks.

It was not the end of the war, by any means, but a dangerous salient had been wiped out, and the American line was straightened, so that now the fighting could go along on more even terms.

"Oh, but I am tired!" sighed Jimmy, as he flung himself full length down on the ground when the signal came to cease firing.

"I'm all in, too," added Bob.

"But we're none of us hurt to any extent," said Franz, binding up a place on his leg where a bit of shrapnel had grazed him. "Won't even get a wound stripe for this," he said, grimly.

It was next morning, when the supply wagons had come up with more substantial food, and hot rations, that the good news circulated around.

"We're due for a rest billet! Hurray!"

"And then I'll have a chance to see about Sergeant Maxwell!" exclaimed Jimmy.

That same day, following the one of such fierce fighting, the battalion in which Jimmy and his chums served was ordered to the rear. They would have a week's rest before going into the terrible game again.

Jimmy's first action, once he had been relieved from active duty for the time being, was to seek out the hospital whither Sergeant Maxwell had been removed. He went alone, for he did not want to excite the patient by taking in too many chums, should it prove that the man who had held the five thousand francs was in a dangerous physical or mental condition.

But, to Jimmy's relief, the doctor's and nurse's reports were favorable. It was more a case of exhaustion than anything else, though the sergeant had been wounded.

"Did he tell where he had been ever since he has been missing?" asked Jimmy of a hospital attendant before going in himself to see his friend.

"Well he remembered some of it. It seems he was captured while out on a listening post one night, and taken away a prisoner. Instead of sending him to a camp, as the Huns do with most of our poor chaps they get, the Boches kept the sergeant with them, taking him from place to place. It was their idea, I believe, to either force him to desert and join them, or use him as a decoy—or perhaps make him a spy.

"Anyhow they kept him with them, and once he was struck and wounded by a beast of a German officer. After that they neglected him and he got terribly run down, though his wound healed. Then, just before the last big fight—the one you say you were in—the sergeant was held a prisoner in the hut where you found him. He was in a bad way and I suppose the Germans thought he'd die when they left him—which they did when our boys knocked the spots off 'em, if you'll excuse my slang."

"Oh, I'll excuse it all right!" laughed Jimmy. "It isn't any too strong."

"Well, I guess you may see the sergeant now," said the orderly. "Only don't talk to him too much. He doesn't like to dwell on what happened to him. They must have treated him worse than they would a beast!"

"It's awful!" declared Jimmy. "But they'll be made to pay for it! No, I won't tax him with any talk of the past. I just want to see if he knows me and remembers a certain matter."

"Oh, he'll know you all right," returned the orderly. "As a matter of fact, he has been asking for you."

"That's a good sign!" thought Jimmy.

Sergeant Maxwell held out a wan hand to his friend. "I can't begin to thank you for what you and the other boys did for me," he said, weakly. "If you hadn't discovered me in that lonely hut I wouldn't be alive now."

"Oh, maybe someone else would have found you," said Jimmy, cheerfully. "But we're glad we did."

"I've been wishing you'd come in," went on the sick sergeant. "There's something that's been worrying me. It's about that five thousand francs you gave me to keep for you."

"Well, don't worry about it," and Jimmy tried to keep his voice up to the cheerful mark. "Have you got it?"

"No," said the sergeant, "I haven't. But—"

He paused to take a drink of water, and Jimmy's feelings went down to about the zero position.

"But I know where it is," added the sergeant.

"I suppose the Germans took it off you."

"Indeed they didn't!" was the rather vigorous answer. "I didn't have it on me. It's back in the dugout!"

"The dugout!" cried Jimmy, his spirits once more soaring.

"Yes, the one where I was quartered when you gave it to me. I knew we were in for some hard fighting, so before I went out on listening post I hid the franc notes in an old tin can and stuck it up under the roof beams. It's right under where a picture of President Wilson is tacked up. And if the dugout isn't destroyed the money is there yet."

"Well, the dugout can't be destroyed, for there haven't been any Germans there in some time," said Jimmy. "And I do hope you're right about the money being there. Not so much for my sake," he added quickly, "but because I promised to whack up with my bunkies, and I want to keep my word."

"Well, you send a message there and see if I'm not right," concluded Maxwell, and then, being rather weak, he was ordered by the nurse to take a rest.

Elated, but hardly believing the good news, Jimmy received permission not only to send a message, but to go back in a motor truck to the place where the headquarters of the 509th Infantry had been just before the big advance.

Jimmy did not get back to his chums until late that night, for his leave covered him up to midnight, and he was not on duty. He found Iggy, Franz, Bob and Roger in a Y.M.C.A. hut, writing letters, and from the labor Iggy was undergoing, his tongue sticking out and following every movement of his pen, it was evident that the Polish lad was not finding English correspondence any easier as the war progressed.

"Where have you been, Blazes? Back home?" asked Bob a bit sarcastically at Jimmy's absence.

"Sort of," was the answer. "That looks like stuff from home; doesn't it!" and he threw on the table some crumpled and rather stained thousand franc notes.

"Suffering shrapnel!" cried Bob. "The prize money!"

"Where'd you get it?"

"Did Max have it?"

"How'd you get it away from him?"

"How is he?"

"One at a time, please!" laughed Jimmy. "But first I'll tell you good news—Max is going to get well," and he related the story he had heard about the sergeant.

"Well, that's quite a yarn!" exclaimed Roger.

"However, that hasn't anything on what we're going to tell you, Jimmy Blazes!" cried Bob Dalton excitedly.

"Have we all won the croix de guerre?" asked Jimmy, smiling.

"No, but here's a note from the 'spy' we denounced," and Jimmy, as he accepted a paper Bob held out, wondered at the happy looks on the faces of his chums.

It was explained, however, when he read the note. A glance at the signature told him it was from "Captain Frank Dickerson."

"Boys, you only did your duty in exposing me, as you thought you did," wrote the officer. "I congratulate you on your nerve, and on doing what you so plainly disliked to do, after I had saved your lives, as I may flatter myself I did.

"So don't worry about me. I was only doing my duty, too, for Uncle Sam when I was within the German lines and in a German uniform. And I was also doing my duty when I was within your lines in an American uniform. My superior officers know all about it. That is all I can say now, except to add that I was not under arrest very long. But that action had to be taken to keep my plans from becoming known, even to the major. I hope to meet you all again."

"Say, what does it all mean?" asked Jimmy, to whom so many things had happened in the last few hours that it was no wonder he was a bit dazed. "What's all this talk about the government knowing he was in German uniform and all that?"

"Don't you understand?" inquired Bob, with a smile. "He was a spy."

"Of course he was a spy!" asserted Jimmy. "I sized that up all right. He was a spy inside our lines and—"

"Yes, but he was also a spy inside the German lines," put in Roger. "Don't you understand, Blazes! Captain Dickerson wore the German uniform to get possession of some of their secrets. He's in the United States Secret Service."

Jimmy looked first at one and then at the other of his chums, until he had faced them all in turn.

"Gee!" he exclaimed at length. "What a chump I was not to guess that, when he acted so coolly after I denounced him! What a chump I was!"

"Oh, well, we couldn't guess everything," said Franz, "And he certainly acted suspiciously at times."

"Yes, so I dinks myself," agreed Iggy, who had not spoken for some time.

"Well, it's all over—at least we've cleared up two mysteries," observed Bob. "I wonder what will happen next?"

"Well, there's going to be more fighting; that's sure," declared Jimmy, "and I want to do my share!"

"Same here!" echoed his chums.

And whether they did or not will be told in our next volume, entitled, "The Khaki Boys Fighting to Win; or, Smashing the German Lines."

THE END