Colonel Bainbridge did command, and Sergeant Scott, Billy Barry and Henri Trouville went along. “I wish they would let us ride Bon Ami.”
Billy had noted the handsome horse they had captured prancing along carrying a heavyweight cavalryman, while Henri and himself were perched beside a teamster on the front seat of a supply wagon.
“Maybe they were afraid that you would run away,” drawled the teamster. “Sergeant Scott says you’re too skittish to turn loose.”
“The sergeant will be putting handcuffs on us next,” laughed Billy.
The teamster set his teeth in a plug of tobacco, snapped the whiplash over the big bay team and with a twinkle in his eye started the verse of some soldier ditty:
[64]
“‘Said Colonel Malone to the sergeant bold,
These are the traps I give you to hold,
If they are gone when I come back
You’re just the boy I’ll put on the rack.’”
“That’s just it,” added the teamster, changing from song to the usual drawl, “if the sergeant lets you come to harm the colonel would cut the stripes from his coat. And what’s more the sergeant is kind of struck on you himself. Git-ap,”—to the horses.
It was at the crossing of the Lys at Warneton that the boys had another baptism of fire.
The crossing was strongly held by the Germans with a barricade loopholed at the bottom to enable the men to fire while lying down. The Allies’ cavalry, with the artillery, blew the barricade to pieces and scattered the defenders.
In the square of the town the boys saw the greatest display of fireworks that ever dazzled their young eyes.
One of the buildings appeared to leap skyward. A sheet of flame and a shower of star shells at the same time made the place as light as day.
Out of the surrounding houses the Germans poured a terrific fire from rifles and machine guns.
The Allies’ cavalry got away with a loss of eight or nine men, and Sergeant Scott headed volunteers[65] that went back and carried away wounded comrades from this dreadful place.
Billy and Henri rushed at the sergeant when he returned from this daring performance and joined hands in a sort of war dance around their hero.
“The Victoria Cross for yours, old top!” cried Billy.
“You ought to have it this minute!” echoed Henri.
“Quit your jabber, you chatterboxes,” said the big sergeant playfully, shaking his fist at his admirers, but it could be plainly seen that he was mightily pleased with the demonstration.
“You and I will have to do something to keep up with this man,” remarked Billy to Henri, with a mock bow to the sergeant.
“None of that,” growled the sergeant, “your skylarking doesn’t go on the ground, and not on this ground, anyhow.”
Bu............