Part 15 (1/2)

”Did you hear the question?”

”It was to frighten him,” the lieutenant finally blurted out. ”Anyway he was a spy and deserved to be hung. He had come into our lines in disguise.”

The corporal motioned to Frank.

”Ask the girl again if she is sure the prisoner had on an American uniform,” he directed.

Frank did so.

”_Oui, oui,_” she affirmed emphatically.

To make sure, Frank repeated the question to the farmer and his son and received the same answer.

He reported to the corporal.

”These people all say that the prisoner was not in disguise, Lieutenant,” said Wilson. ”Do you still wish to insist that he was?”

”Yes.”

”That is enough,” replied the corporal with quiet scorn. ”Line up the prisoners, men,” he commanded.

This was quickly done, and the homeward march commenced, but not until another search had been made for the missing captive of the Germans.

It had the same result as the previous one and the boys were full of questionings and forebodings as they marched back guarding their prisoners. But there were some elements of comfort in their perplexity.

In the first place, they had saved some American soldier, whether Tom or another, from a horrible death. Then, too, they had in their power the brute who had planned that death. It was not impossible, too, that, under further questioning of the lieutenant and his men at headquarters, more might be learned of what they wanted so badly to know.

Another subject of congratulation also was that the prisoner, if he had escaped, was not far from the American lines. He might find his way in at any time.

But there was one thing that bothered Frank considerably, and he mentioned it that night when he found himself alone with Bart and Billy.

”Do you remember the minute at the edge of the wood when the corporal gave the order to fix bayonets?” he asked.

”Sure thing,” replied Bart. ”What about it?”

”Just this,” replied Frank. ”At that minute I caught sight of a man running away from the farmhouse into the woods on the other side. I got the picture of him in my mind, but I didn't have time to think about it just then, for we were making a rush for the house. Then other things crowded it out of my mind altogether. But it came back to me on the way home this afternoon.”

”What did the man look like and how was he dressed?” asked Billy eagerly.

”He had on an American uniform,” replied Frank slowly, as he tried to make the picture clear in his own mind.

”Perhaps it was Tom!” cried Bart.

”No, it wasn't,” said Frank positively. ”The uniform was smart and newer than ours. Tom's must be in tatters and you remember the girl said it was. Then, too, I'd know Tom's gait among a thousand just as you would. No, it wasn't Tom, worse luck.”

”Who was it, then?”

”I think it was Nick Rabig,” replied Frank.

”Nick Rabig!” the others cried together.