"There's a big battle going on all around us, but we seem to be in the
center of a calm area," said Roger. "The question is how to find our
way out."

"Well, let's go!" suddenly exclaimed Jimmy. "Well only get lame and
stiff staying here, I feel as if I'd been rolled down hill in a spiked
barrel."

Not one of the five Brothers but what had several wounds. But,
fortunately, they were superficial ones. They were sore and bruised
from being knocked down by the concussion, and by being precipitated
into the cellar by the collapse of the mill. But they were still able
to travel; though, as Jimmy said, if they remained inactive their
muscles and joints would stiffen.

"Hike!" cried Bob, and they set off in the direction indicated
by Captain Dickerson--that strange man who had seemed so cold and
reserved, and who had made so light of what he had done in saving the
lives of the Khaki Boys.

"I wonder if we'll ever see him again," mused Franz, as they marched
away from the burning mill.

"Somehow I have a feeling that we will," said Jimmy. And afterward he
was to recall those words under strange circumstances.

And so they began what was destined to be a most perilous journey to
get back to their own lines.