rther talk. The three friends
separated.

Walking between the rows of German tents, Chester, after perhaps half an
hour, was arrested by the sound of voices in a tent that seemed, in the
darkness, to be much larger than the ones which surrounded it. He paused
and listened attentively.

"Then everything is in readiness," came a voice.

"Everything. When the French see that we have weakened our lines on the
left wing, they naturally will press forward in masses. The pressure on
the right wing probably will be lessened. Also in the center. General
Petain, in all probabilities, will seek to take advantage of what he will
believe is our carelessness."

"And then?" asked the first voice.

"Why, then we shall push forward in the center and on the right,
leaving enough men on the left to make a show of force. Taken at a
disadvantage, the French will be cut off on our left, and our center,
sweeping around, suddenly, will envelop them. As I estimate it, the
French wing, which will be thus enveloped, will be 100,000 strong. It
will be a telling blow."

Chester, while this conversation was in progress, had shrunk close up
against the tent. Now, thinking to gain a view of the occupants, he
drew his knife from his pocket and made a little slit in the canvas.
To this opening he applied his eye; and then gave an exclamation under
his breath.

In the center of the group of officers in the tent was none other than
the German Crown Prince, the directing head of the German attack on
Verdun, and son of the Emperor himself.

The conversation continued and the lad stored up mentally the knowledge
he gained by listening to the conversation.

The gathering within now seemed about to break up; but Chester delayed in
his precarious position, thinking to gather every possible iota of
information. And this almost proved his undoing.

Although Chester did not know it, one of the German officers had, for
some moments, been gazing at the little slit in the tent made by the
point of Chester's knife. Now, with a murmured apology to the other
officers, he strode from the tent. Chester still had his eyes glued to
the opening and did not hear soft footsteps behind him.

A harsh voice sounded in the lad's ear.

"Get up from there!"

Chester did not lose his nerve, although he realized immediately that he
was in a ticklish position, indeed. His hand reached for his pocket as he
rose slowly to his feet.

But one glance at the figure that co