search of his orders. When
the march was taken up again its course led across a network of
tracks to a long train.

"Why, these are cattle cars," uttered Prescott, disgustedly, when
the column had been halted along the length of the foremost part
of the train. "And, judging by the odor, these cars haven't been
cleaned."

"They won't be until we are through riding in them," returned
the French officer at his side. "This is what comes to soldiers
who surrender to the German dogs!"

Only one car was given over to the officer-prisoners, who were
forced to climb into the unsavory car through a side door. No
seats had been provided, but there was not more than room to stand
up in the stuffy car. Fortunately the spaces between the timbers
of the car sides gave abundant ventilation.

Into cars to the rear the enlisted prisoners were packed. To
stomachs that had been empty of food all day the odors were
especially distressing.

As the officer in charge of the prisoners came to the side door
of the first car Dick made bold to prefer a request.

"We have had no water all day. May we have a bucket of it in
here before the train starts?"

"There will not be time," replied the German officer coldly, and
moved away. Yet two hours passed, and the train did not start.

Suddenly German guns behind the front, along a stretch of miles,
opened a heavy bombardment. Dick and his French friends gazed
out at a sky made violently lurid by the reflection of the flashes
of these great pieces. Then the French guns answered furiously,
nor did all the French shells fall upon the German trenches or
batteries. The French knew the location of this railway yard.
Within twenty minutes five hundred large caliber shells had fallen
in or near this yard. Freight and passenger coaches were struck
and splintered.

Into the forward cattle car bounded the corporal who had tormented
them that day. Behind him, in the doorway, appeared the German
officer.

"Count the prisoners," ordered the latter, "and make sure that
all are there. We are going to pull out of here before those
crazy French yonder destroy all our rolling stock."

Fifteen minutes later, though the French shell-fire had ceased
coming this way, the train crawled out of the yard. It ran along
slowly, though sometime in the night it increased its speed.

Dick Prescott will never forget the misery of that night. When
the train was under way the cold was intense in these