CHAPTER XXV
A CHAPTER OF WIND
If he had not been afraid of creating noises that would reach the ears of other enemy guards in the vicinity, Phil undoubtedly would have rushed toward his two friends, who had appeared so unexpectedly on the scene, and have welcomed them as if separated from him for years, instead of an hour, more or less. Tim’s companion was none other than Arthur Evans, one of the most interesting and capable of all the young sergeant’s comrades captured by the boches.
As it was, Phil merely advanced a pace or two and said in cautious tones:
“Hello, Tim, Evans. This is Phil Speed. What are you fellows up to?”
The two Marines thus addressed turned quickly, first to resist, then to welcome, the intruder.
“We’re attacking the enemy in the rear while our friends at Belleau Woods meet him in front,” replied Evans. “By the way, how have you succeeded thus far?”
“I don’t think I ought to answer that question,” Phil replied with mock severity. “Evidently you haven’t enough confidence in me to let me carry out my mission. You are decidedly weak in your judgment, to say the least. Suppose you had made a blunder and spoiled all my plans.”
“But we didn’t,” Evans returned; “and, as matters stand, I have a sort of conceit that we’ve helped matters along. Isn’t it so?”
“Yes, I guess it is.”
“Well, what’re you kicking about?”
“I’m kicking right at this instant because we’re doing entirely too much talking to no purpose and running great risk of being overheard by dangerous ears. What are you trying to do?”
“Evans and I bumped into each other after you and I separated,” said Tim, taking on himself the task of explaining. “He’s the one that lost confidence in you—not I. Or rather, he was very much concerned, being afraid you would walk right into a death trap. So he persuaded me to come back and watch around and see if we could be of some assistance if you got into trouble.
“Well, we got back, which was only a short distance, and what do you think we discovered? You could never guess, unless you have found it out for yourself. I won’t keep you guessing for this is no place for trifling. We discovered that every last one of the guards around this place is drunk.”
Phil’s little gasp of astonishment was enough to settle any doubt his friends may have had as to his previous information on the subject of the bibulous laxity of the guards.
“I suppose they must ’ave found a French wine cellar or something o’ the kind,” Tim continued. “You saw this fellow rouse up and topple over just before we jumped on him, I presume. Well, he was as drunk as a lord, and we gave him a choking that will keep him asleep until a Chicago police pulmotor arrives to pump oxygen into his lungs.”
“Why Chicago and not Philadelphia?” inquired Phil who hailed originally from the latter metropolis.
“Because Chicago is the ‘Windy City,’ and we shut off this fellow’s wind, which was not an act of brotherly love,—Philadelphia,—if you please.”
“Very good,” returned Phil quietly. “But we’ve expended enough wind over this subject already and had better get busy. I had some lively experience also since I left you, but my story will hold for future telling. What shall we do now?—go around and tap the other guards on the head or shut off their wind?”
“No, I don’t think we’ll have to do much more than disarm them and keep them quiet until we liberate the prisoners,” Evans answered. “We have two guns now—took one from this fellow. I don’t think we’ll have much trouble with them.”
Evans held forward the weapon referred to as he spoke.
“I have a pistol, too, that belonged to the guard who fell into our tunnel,” Phil remarked by way of reminder.
“That’s so,” said Evans. “I forgot about that. We’re well armed. Come on, and we’ll have our game all bagged before the Crown Prince can say papa twice.”