Yet he knew afterward that the sound of the battle did increase in
volume as he flew over the short distance to the regiment. Both east and
west were shaking with the tremendous concussion. One crash he heard
distinctly above the others and he believed it was that of a forty-two
centimeter.
He reached the field, his cycle spun between the eager soldiers, and as
he leaped off in the presence of the colonel he fairly thrust the note
into his hand, exclaiming at the same time in his zeal, "It's an order
to advance! The whole Army of the Center is about to attack."
He called it the Army of the Center at a guess, but names did not matter
now. The colonel glanced at the note, waved his sword above his head and
cried in a loud voice:
"My lads, up and forward!"
The regiment arose with a roar of cheering and began to advance across
the fields. John caught a glimpse of a petty officer, short and small,
but as compact and fierce as a panther, driving on men who needed no
driving. "Geronimo is going to make good," he said to himself. "He'll do
or die today."
As he raced back for new orders, if need be, he knew now that fact not
fancy told him the battle was growing. The earth shook not only on right
and left but in front also. A hasty look through the glasses showed
little tongues of fire licking up on the horizon before them and he knew
that they came from the monster cannon of the Germans who were surely
advancing, while the French were advancing also to meet them.
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