the Allied forces. He had done brilliant work in
driving the Germans back from the Marne in the early days of the war,
when they had approached close to Paris.
"Have you heard the news?" asked Frank of his chums the day after the
appointment had been made.
"No," said Bart.
"What is it?" asked Billy.
"We've got just one man that's going to boss the job of driving back
the Huns," answered Frank.
Bart gave a whoop of delight and Billy threw his hat in the air.
"Best news I've heard yet," crowed Billy.
"That's as good as a battle lost for the Huns," exclaimed Bart. "The
only wonder is that it wasn't done before. Who's the man they've
chosen?"
"General Foch," was the answer.
"Better and better," pronounced Bart. "That man's a born fighter. He
licked the Germans at the Marne, and he can do it again."
"What I like about him," commented Billy, "is that he's a hard hitter.
He isn't satisfied to stand on the defensive. He likes to hand the
other fellow a good one right at the start of the fight."
"That's what," agreed Frank. "He hits out right from the shoulder. Of
course he'll have to wait a little while yet until he sizes up his
forces and sees what he has to fight with. But you can bet it won't be
long before he has the boches on the run."
In the days that followed, the advantage of the appointment became
clear. The armies worked together as they never had before. The khaki
of the British mingled with the cornflower blue of the French.
Reserves were sent where they were most needed, no matter what army
they were drawn from. And, fighting side by side, each nation was
filled with a generous rivalry and sought bravely to outdo the other in
deeds of valor.
The old Thirty-seventh had been in the thick of the fighting and had
covered itself with glory. It had taught the Germans that there were
Americans in France, and that they were fighters to be dreaded.
The course of the fighting had taken Frank and his comrades in the
vicinity of the farmhouse where they had rounded up the German
lieutenant and his squad. But it was a very different place now from
what it had been when they had first seen it. Shells had torn away
part of the roof, and the attic lay open to the sky. But the farmer
and his family still stayed there although in daily peril of their
lives. They lived and slept in the cellar, which was the only place
that afforded them a chance of safety.
One day when only an arti
|