Page:Ruth of the U.S.A. (IA ruthofusa00balm).pdf/191

 up. This time he would fire, Gerry knew; and it was impossible to find shield at the same time against the flying machine gun and the gun of the Jaegers. Gerry dragged his automatic from his holster and aimed, not with any hope of hitting the German machine, but merely to fire back when fired upon. But he could not twist himself far enough.

"Give me the pistol," he heard Cynthia say; and, as the German flyer came upon them with his machine gun jetting, he let her hand take the pistol; and while he lay enmeshed, helpless, he heard her firing.

The machine-gun bullets from above splattered past them; the pilot had overflown. The girl had emptied the magazine of Gerry's pistol and she demanded of him more cartridges. He took his pistol; reloaded it and now, when she reclaimed it, she crouched beside him and shot through a wooden strut and the wires which had been locking his legs in the wreckage. He pulled himself free.

"Now let's get out of here!" he bid.

"You're all right?" she asked.

He was testing his legs. "All right," he assured.

The Jaeger machine gunner had interrupted his fire; and the airplane, which had attacked, was far away at this moment.

"I heard you were about here, Cynthia," Gerry said. "That's why—when I had the chance—I came this way."

She made no reply as she watched the road to the rear upon which the refugees were appearing. A shell burst before them.

"I have to go to them!" Ruth cried.