"It's as
though we were all bewitched. Somebody's wished a jinx on us. Some
ghosts are putting up a job on us."
"There was nothing ghostly about that bullet that knocked the
flashlight out of my hand or those other bullets that came singing
over our heads while we were hugging the ground," said Frank
grimly. "If I don't get to the bottom of this, you can call me a
Chinaman."
"It gets my goat to think of those Heinies chuckling to themselves
because they put one over on us," gritted Billy between his teeth.
"They laugh best who laugh last," growled Bart. "They'll laugh on
the other side of their mouth when we lay hands on them."
"If we ever do," muttered pessimistic Tom. "But here comes our
relief," he continued, as the light of a lantern hanging on the
arm of the foremost man revealed a group coming toward them. "High
time, too! I got drenched to the skin while I was lying on the
ground in that alley."
"Of course we'll have to report the whole thing to the corporal,
shan't we?" inquired Bart.
"I suppose we shall," Frank acquiesced, though reluctantly.
"Personally, I'd like to keep the whole thing up my sleeve until
we've solved the mystery.
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