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Brighton Boys in the Radio Service, The

<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> <h3>The Cave of Death</h3> It is one of the fortunes, or misfortunes, of war that a position gained one day, even at great human sacrifice, may be of no real or practical value whatever the next. So it was with the advance post of communication located by Lieutenant Mackinson and his party under such dangerous conditions during the night before. The information which they had gained through tapping the enemy's wire enabled the American and French troops, operating together, to prevent the German trick from being carried into effect. More than that, it enabled them to turn the knowledge of those plans to such good advantage that the allied brigades swept forward in terrible force against the weakest points in the enemy line. They pushed the whole Boche front back for more than a mile—at the very point where it had been considered strongest! As a consequence, the point of communication which the lieutenant and his aides had established with so much difficulty was now well within the territory held by the American and French fighters. The requirements for a further advance now made it necessary to have another outpost point of communication as near to the enemy trenches as the first one was before the day's battle put the Allies a mile further forward. And so, except for Tom Rawle, who was resting easy from his hip wound, the same party started out at the same tune for the same purpose on this second night, but with a very much sharpened realization of the obstacles they had to overcome and the chances they faced of being wounded or captured. "We take an entirely different direction," Lieutenant Mackinson told them, as he looked up from the map he had been studying. "We go to the north and east and as close to the observation trenches as possible." Now the danger of this can readily be seen from considering what an observation trench is. The front-line trenches of the opposing armies, of course, run in two practically parallel lines. But an observation trench runs almost at right angles with the front-line trenches, and directly toward the enemy trench, so far as it is possible to extend it. The extreme ends of these observation trenches are known as "listening posts," and often they are so close to the enemy lines that the men in the opposing army can be heard talking. Lieutenant Mackinson and his aides, Joe, Jerry, Slim and Frank Hoskins, were to get their signaling location as near to an enemy listening post as possible! In other words, they were to court discovery in an effort to get just a few feet nearer the enemy than they otherwise would. They went along much as they had on the preceding night, except, had there been light enough, it might have been noticed that Slim, in his walking, pushed his feet forward cautiously, and then in stepping lifted them high from the ground. But as luck would have it they had not gone more than two hundred yards when a bullet whizzed within two feet of Jerry's head, followed by a shower of missiles that were directed entirely too close to them for comfort. Instantly they dropped flat on the ground. In the distance ahead of them they could see three shadows stealthily crawling along toward them. "Pick your men!" Lieutenant Mackinson ordered, in a whisper. "Fire!" Their automatics let out a fusillade of bullets. Two of the shadows jumped slightly into the air, and then rolled over. The third man rose and started to run toward the enemy line. Frank Hoskins took deliberate aim and fired. The man dropped and lay still. "Looks as though we got them," said Lieutenant Mackinson, "but they may be only pretending. Do not move for a few minutes." While they were thus waiting, the enemy trenches sent up a glaring rocket. It fell shorthand failed to reveal them, but it plainly showed three German soldiers lying prone upon the ground, all of them apparently instantly killed. "That's the part of it I don't like," muttered Slim with a shudder. "It isn't so bad when you are firing into a whole company or regiment and see men fall. At least, it doesn't seem so bad, for you don't know just which ones you hit and which ones some one else bowled over. But in this individual close-range stuff it leaves a nasty feeling." "You are right," whispered Frank Hoskins, "but you'd better not talk any more about it now or some Boche may try the same close-range stuff on us." Warned to silence by the lieutenant, they continued to creep along, only a foot or so at a time, stopping every few minutes to listen intently to see if their presence had been discovered. On the night before they had been upon fairly level ground, but this night they were in a section that was all hills and hummocks and hollows. They would creep cautiously up the side of one mound, not knowing but that on the other side lay a group of Germans, perhaps out upon a similar mission. For no one can tell what may happen in No Man's Land—that section belonging to neither side, before and between the front-line trenches of the opposing armies. "With that star as my guide, I am certain that we have not turned from the proper direction," Lieutenant Mackinson whispered, as they came to a halt in a secluded spot that seemed as safe from attack as from observation. "We have passed the fifth hill. Fifteen more minutes should bring us to the place which Major Jones indicated on the map. It is a sort of natural trench. If we reach it all right we are to string a wire from there to our first observation trench to the northwest of it. I believe that the same place has been used for the same purpose before, during the long time that all this has been contested ground. An outpost there can observe and report every activity of the enemy in daylight, without himself being seen." They began again to creep forward, now flat upon their stomachs, and only raising themselves from the ground a little way, but at infrequent intervals, in order to make sure of their position and that they were not being watched. "Listen!" hissed Frank Hoskins, who was a little to the left of where the others were snaking their way along. They all stopped moving, almost stopped breathing. "What was it?" Lieutenant Mackinson barely breathed, after several minutes of silence. Hoskins crawled nearer before he spoke. "How near are we, Lieutenant?" he asked: "I should say about a hundred yards." "Look straight ahead of us when the next rocket goes up," Hoskins suggested. They had not long to wait for one of the great sky torches to come sailing over the side of the German trench, but from a considerable distance ahead of them. "Did you notice anything?" Hoskins asked. "I didn't," whispered the lieutenant. "Did you?" "I thought I saw half a dozen men," said Joe. "We'll wait, then, and see," said Lieutenant Mackinson. In a moment another rocket went up, this time from the American-French side, and it clearly showed what Joe and Frank both had seen. Six, perhaps seven or eight, men were crawling along, headed toward them. "They are making for the same place," said Jerry. "Exactly," replied the lieutenant. "It means that we have got to fight for it. We will have some advantage if we can beat them to the protection of the base of that hummock." As rapidly as possible they started forward. Lying out flat, they would draw their feet upward and toward them, rising slightly and going forward upon their arms. This action, which put them ahead a few inches every time, they repeated times without number. But it was slow progress at best, and made slower by the interruptions of the rockets. "We are almost there," Lieutenant Mackinson whispered, "but I think we have been discovered. Lie flat and don't make a move. By keeping my head in the position I have it I can watch that other group. If we have been seen it means a running fight to the mouth of that trench or cave." Another rocket cut a glaring path across the sky. Again it was from the American-French side and illumined the black shadows strewn along the ground like little clumps of low-growing bushes. "Ah!" exclaimed the lieutenant suddenly, and then, in the same breath: "Up and at 'em, boys!" Before the others had an opportunity to realize what had happened, Mackinson was dashing at top speed toward the indicated trench or cave, firing as he went. As they followed suit, but more careful in their shooting, for fear of hitting him, they realized that the men in the enemy group were doing the same thing—running as fast as they could for the same position. "Drop!" ordered the lieutenant, and they did so, but it was as if he had issued the order for both sides, for the others were not a second later in seeking the security of the ground. "Either side may begin playing machine-guns on us at any moment," the young officer whispered, between gasps for breath. "Forward as quickly as possible, and continue firing." How they ever escaped the enemy bullets as long as they did none of them ever knew, but the men of the other side were just as doggedly determined, and no less courageous, even if three of their number already lay stretched out motionless and useless upon the ground. And so the battle waged, until both groups were no more than fifty feet away from the mouth of the natural trench. Each moment brought them closer together, with the even more vigorous popping of their guns, for by now it was virtually a hand-to-hand battle. Only four men now remained upon the side of the Germans, and, so far as numbers were concerned, the Americans seemed to have the advantage by one. But the score was evened an instant later, when one of the Boches "winged" Frank Hoskins, and his right arm fell useless at his side. But Lieutenant Mackinson squared accounts for Hoskins by putting another German completely out of commission. A prompt return compliment knocked Jerry's revolver out of his hand. At this juncture Slim played a heroic part by laying low another German. Seeing themselves now outnumbered almost two to one—for apparently they did not know that they had injured Hoskins—the two remaining Boches took one final, despairing survey of the situation, then turned and started on a dead run for their own lines. Lieutenant Mackinson leveled his revolver at them, held it in that position for a moment, and then—perhaps it was an accident—seemed to elevate it slightly in the air and fired. Certainly neither German was hurt by the bullet, although it did seem to add a little to their haste. "The position is ours," announced the lieutenant exultantly, and then, suddenly remembering that Frank Hoskins had been hit and that Jerry had dropped his gun, he inquired: "Hurt badly, Frank? And how about you, Jerry?" "Nothing but a scratch," said Frank. "Took me right on the 'crazy bone' and made me jump for a minute, but it's hardly bleeding now." "Only hit my gun," announced Jerry, "and I recovered that." There was no time for further conversation. The Germans had reached their own lines, and a machine-gun was being trained upon the Americans. They rushed headlong to the north side of the little mound, and into the opening of a natural cave. The earthwork made them as solidly entrenched as though they were behind their own lines, and only heavy shells could dislodge them. But they had work to do, and the nature of it required that they do it quickly. The entrance faced almost directly north and into No Man's Land, so that the light of an electric flash, such as they all carried, hardly could attract the attention of either side. "Joe," said the lieutenant, sizing up the situation, "it is not safe to leave the enemy unwatched for a single second. I think it would be well for you to stay on duty outside, while the rest of us rig up the instrument and begin to unspool the wire. Hoskins, you're hurt, so you stay here with Joe. But both of you be mighty careful not to expose yourselves where you'll stop a German bullet." With Lieutenant Mackinson leading, Jerry just behind him and Slim bringing up the rear, they crossed the five feet of narrow passageway back into the natural dungeon. The lieutenant switched on his light. Involuntarily and with a startled gesture he stepped back. "Jumping Jupiter!" exclaimed Jerry, "what's that?" Slim, peering ahead of the other two, ejaculated something between a shriek and a groan. Strewn about the ground of that cave, in every conceivable position of misery and torture, were the bodies of half a dozen dead men, all Germans. The lieutenant's hand that held the light trembled slightly as he stared at the ghastly scene before him, but he was grit and courage right through to the heart. "This is bad business," he said, "but we are under orders and we must go through with it. We cannot move the bodies out to-night." He stepped further into the dark hole, and the other two lads followed. Suddenly from behind them there was a grumbling, roaring crash, pierced by a cry of warning from Joe, outside. The three whirled around, and for a moment no one could utter a word. The mouth of the dungeon had completely caved in! "Trapped!" gasped Jerry, who was the first to find his voice. Even the lieutenant seemed dazed. "Trapped," echoed Slim, "in the cave of death." <hr class="major" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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