"Get up, pig-dog of an American!" spluttered the German captain. "You will capture our men, will you? Now you are a prisoner. The tables are turned!"
He spoke in German, and, of course, Franz understood. Before he realized what he was doing he snapped back an answer in the same tongue, not thinking what the consequences would be.
"I won't be a prisoner long!" said Franz. Hearing his own language from an enemy prisoner, he reached the conclusion that the speaker was of German parentage. This seemed to enrage the Boche captain. With crimson face he yelled:
"Ho! So you are a renegade German, are you? You fight against your own countrymen! Well, we know the right punishment for that. Get up, you traitor!" and he kicked poor Schnitz brutally. "Drag him along if he won't walk!" cried the captain to his men, and some of them, with ready bayonets, drew nearer to Franz.
"We're smashing through! We're smashing through!"
It was Jimmy who cried this. A turn of the battle had thrown him in contact with Roger, Bob, and Iggy after some hours of fighting, and once more they were pressing onward again.
There had been only time for a hurried word of inquiry--enough to learn that none of the four was injured at all seriously, though each one had had narrow escapes.
"Seen anything of Schnitz?" cried Jimmy, as he leaped forward to the attack again.
"He was with us a little while ago," shouted Bob. "I guess we'll find him up ahead!"
They did not know the fate that had befallen poor Franz.
"Sure I iss! Of what is left of me. But I a piece of my tin hat dit leaf behind," and he showed where a bullet or a fragment of shrapnel had shorn away part of his steel helmet.
"Oh, well, I should of worry haf dot it iss not mine head," said Iggy, with a smile.
And while the four, together with a vast army of Americans, were pressing on, the Germans were being driven back. It is no wonder that Jimmy had cried out that the Allies were smashing through.
For the spear-head had been bent back. No longer was it a menace, and, in their turn, the Americans were forcing one into the German line--a broader spear-head, with the consequent chance of dividing the foe's line and turning either flank.
"Come on, boys! Come on!" cried a lieutenant. "Let's finish the job. Only a few hundred more yards, and we'll have reached our objective!"