Army Boys on the Firing Line | Page 6

sober second thought made him pause.
If he were captured wearing his own uniform it would be just as an
ordinary prisoner, entitled to be treated as such by the laws of war.
But if they took him wearing a German uniform he would be regarded
as a spy and would be shot or hanged offhand, perhaps even without
the form of a court-martial.
He weighed the question carefully, for he knew that life or death might
result from the way he answered it.
To help him decide, he raised his head with infinite caution to the rim
of the shell hole and looked about him. In the faint light that came from
lanterns disposed at various places he could see men moving here and
there and catch the murmur of conversation where some of them were
sitting in groups.
Occasionally a man would rise from one of these gatherings and move
away, apparently without attracting notice or arousing question. Why
could he not do the same?

Of course there was the chance of a word being addressed to him and
he could not answer without revealing his ignorance of German. But
perhaps he could pretend not to hear or respond with a grunt that would
pass muster.
One thing was certain. If it were done at all it must be done at once
while there were many about. If he waited until things were quiet his
solitary figure would be sure to attract attention.
His choice was made. Between the certainty of capture and the chance
of being shot he would take the chance. If worse came to worst he had
his knife and his revolver and he would sell his life dearly.
He knelt down close by his captive and began to strip off his clothes.
The man was inclined to resist, but a sharp prick of Frank's knife told
him that his captor was in no mind to stand any nonsense and he lay
quiet. It was hard work because the man was heavy and the quarters
were cramped. The coat had to be cut off in places because Frank did
not dare to untie his prisoner's hands. But at last the clothes were off,
and Frank slipped them on over his own.
It was with a shudder of repulsion that he saw himself clad in the
detested uniform that stood for all that was hateful and brutal in warfare.
It made him feel soiled. But he comforted himself with the thought that
the clothes were only external and that good United States khaki lay
between that abhorred uniform and his skin.
He saw that the gag was still securely in position and that his captive's
bonds had not relaxed. Then as a last reminder he laid the back of his
knife on the prisoner's neck and felt him shiver beneath the cold steel.
"I guess he'll make no attempt to give me away," he said to himself.
"He knows that he'll be all right in the morning anyway."
Slowly and with the infinite precaution that had been taught him in his
scout training, Frank lifted himself out of the hole and lay flat on the
ground near the edge. There he waited until he was sure that he had
attracted no attention.

Then having carefully taken his bearings and fixed upon the direction
of the American lines, he yawned, stretched and rising slowly to his
feet strolled carelessly toward the outskirts of the camp.
CHAPTER III
AMONG THE MISSING
Frank's heart was beating like a triphammer and his nerves were at a
fearful tension. The next five minutes would probably determine
whether he was to live or die.
But he kept himself well in hand and to all appearances he was only a
tired German soldier going to his bunk.
As far as he could without attracting attention, he kept carefully away
from the low fires around which some of the Germans were sitting. But
at one point he was forced to pass within the zone of light, and one of a
group threw a laughing remark at him, occasioned probably by the cuts
in his coat which he had been compelled to make when he had stripped
his prisoner.
"Asel!" Frank flung back at him and passed on, thankful that he at least
knew the German term for jackass.
Nearer and nearer he drew to the confines of the camp. Here the great
danger lay, for he knew that it would be closely guarded after the day's
fighting.
If he were challenged what should he say? To the sentinel's "Wer da?"
he could answer "Freund." But when he was told to advance and give
the countersign what would be his answer?
He had it ready. But it would not suit the Germans.
At the point that he