The Boy Allies on the Firing Line Part 6

CHAPTER VII.

HAL MAKES AN ENEMY.

Hal bent over his friend and shook him gently.

"Chester! Chester!" he exclaimed anxiously. "Are you wounded?"

There was no reply from the unconscious boy, and Hal became greatly alarmed. He turned to the few troopers who remained.

"Here, lend a hand some of you," he commanded. "One of you fetch some water!"

Two of the men bent over the unconscious lad and one raised his head gently to his knee. A third dashed for the river, and a moment later returned with his cap filled with water.

Hal sprinkled a few drops of water on his friend's face, and soon noticed signs of returning consciousness. Finally Chester opened his eyes and smiled feebly.

"Are you much hurt, old fellow?" asked Hal anxiously.

"No," came the feeble response. "I don't think so. A bullet just grazed my side. I don't know how I came to topple over like that."

Quickly Hal unloosened his friend's coat, tore open his shirt and examined his wound.

"It's only a scratch," he said, straightening up at last. "Here,"

pulling out his handkerchief, "I'll fix it up until we can have a surgeon look at it. You will be able to walk in a few minutes."

"I'm able right now," said Chester, struggling to his feet.

Leaning heavily on Hal's arm, Chester turned his eyes toward the river bank, which now was lined with British troops, who were firing steadily at forms disappearing on the opposite side of the stream. The approach of the English in force had caused the Germans to beat a rapid retreat. From the opposite sh.o.r.e, however, still came puffs of smoke, and bullets continued to fall among the English troops, and here and there men fell to the ground.

"They arrived just in time, didn't they, Hal?" said Chester.

"You bet they did," was the reply. "But come, we will try to make our way back to our station."

With Chester still leaning on his shoulder, Hal led the way, going very slowly because of his burden. Making his friend comfortable under an army wagon, Hal went at once to Gen. French to make his report.

"You have done well," was the general's only comment when Hal had concluded his recital.

Hal saluted and left.

"Guess I'll go back and keep Chester company," he said to himself.

He was walking slowly along with bowed head, musing, when he came suddenly into contact with another figure. The man with whom he had collided mumbled an imprecation and violently pushed the lad away, at the same time exclaiming:

"What do you mean by b.u.mping into me like that? Can't you see where you are going? I have a notion to teach you better manners."

Hal's face flushed, and he turned a steady gaze on the other, who proved to be a French lieutenant.

"I wouldn't try it if I were you," the lad advised him.

"What!" exclaimed the Frenchman. "You dare to talk to me like that?"

"Of course I dare," was the lad's heated response.

The Frenchman took a quick step forward and slapped Hal smartly across the face.

Hal promptly sent his right fist crashing into the other's face and knocked him down.

The Frenchman rose slowly to his feet, and with blood streaming from his nose, approached Hal.

"I am Lieutenant Dupree," he said. "My friend shall call on you this evening."

"I am Hal Paine, attached to the staff of General French," Hal said calmly, "and your friend may call any time he so desires."

The Frenchman bowed stiffly, and continued on his way. Hal returned to Chester.

"Back so soon?" said Chester.

"Yes," was Hal's reply; "and back with more trouble."

"What's the matter?" demanded Chester in some consternation.

"Well, I am afraid I have a duel on my hands."

"A duel?"

"Yes; on my way here I accidentally b.u.mped into some fiery French lieutenant. He slapped me across the face and I knocked him down. He then informed me his friend would call on me this evening. That sounds like a duel to me."

"Yes," said Chester, "unless it can be patched up."

"I am afraid it can't. You know these Frenchmen. As far as I am concerned, there is nothing to fight about, but I am afraid the Frenchman feels he has a grievance. He'll probably demand a fight or an apology."

"Well?"

"I have nothing to apologize for; therefore I am afraid it means a duel."

"Not if I can prevent it," exclaimed Chester, jumping to his feet.

"But you can't," replied Hal grimly. "And you had better lie down again. You are liable to strain your wound."

"Oh, I am not worrying about the wound," exclaimed Chester. "The doctor said there was no danger. It's you I am worrying about. Why, you are likely to be killed."

"Oh, I guess I can give a good account of myself," returned Hal. "I've been pretty fortunate thus far. I don't figure I am going to fall before any Frenchman's sword or pistol. I'll probably be saved for a German bullet some of these days."

Chester became silent. He knew that an argument was useless. Besides, he knew that in Hal's position his own actions would be the same.

It was shortly after 6 o'clock that evening when two French officers made their way to the quarters to which the boys had been a.s.signed.