Havin nothin better to do we followed him. He turned up a little
railroad track like the one that used to run around the county fair
for a dime. It twisted along thru the woods without seemin to come out
much of anyplace. Then we came round a bend an about fifty yards away
was a gang of Fritzes stokin shells into four whoppin big guns as fast
as they could fire them out.

The next thing I knew I was runnin down that little track behind the
Captin. Quite a ways behind, Mable. Everybody was cussin like a
mule-skinner. Angus was sayin things in Skotch I bet hed hate to have
rote down as his last words. But the Fritzes didnt seem to have no
idear of makin them that. They stopped for one look an dove in the
bushes like a bunch of rabbits. All except a few that was to scared to
run. They just stood an gobbled at us.

It seemed to me wed done something worth sittin around an havin a
postmortem about. But the Captin just rote the name of his company on
one of the guns with a piece of chalk. Then he lit his pipe an started
off down the track agen. We came out on a road after a while an there
was the Major an a whole lot of doboys. The doboys was sittin on the
railroad track, smokin cigarets an watchin the shells bust in the
woods all around them like they was at a baseball game. A squad of
Fritzes was puttin a few of our doboys on stretchers an carryin them
off down the road.

Well, Mable, there aint much more to tell. The Major sent me over to a
tin house where the Lootenant was. I found him dryin off by an old
Fritz stove an eatin somebodies Irun Rashuns. I never could find out
when the battle was offishully over. There was machine guns poppin
away all the afternoon but nobody seemed to be botherin much about