tary German tripped, ever so lightly, with a kind of
stiff grace. Then the freshening breeze blew Tom's rebellious hair down
over his eyes, and as he brushed it aside he saw the German indeed
dancing--there was no doubt of it.

Suddenly a cold shudder ran through him and he stepped out from his
concealment as he realized that this uncanny figure was not standing but
_hanging_ just clear of the ground.

CHAPTER XIII

THE PRIZE SAUSAGE

"Come on out, Archy," said Tom with a recklessness which struck terror
to poor Archer's very soul. "He won't hurt you--he's dead."

"D-e-a-d!" ejaculated Archer.

"Sure--he's hanging there."

"And all the time I wanted to sneeze," said Archer, laughing in his
reaction from fear. "Ebe-nee-zerr, but I had a good scarre!"

Going over to the tree, they saw the ghastly truth. A man wearing a
garment something like a Russian blouse, but of the field-gray military
shade of the Germans (as well as the boys could make out by the aid of a
lighted match) was hanging by his garment which had caught in a low
spreading branch of the tree. His feet were just clear of the ground and
as the breeze blew he swayed this way and that, the gathering strain
upon his garment behind the neck throwing his limp head forward and
giving his shoulders a hunched appearance, quite in the manner of the
clog dancer. The German emblem was blazoned upon his blouse and
superimposed in shining metal upon the front of his fatigue cap. Even as
they paused before him he seemed to bow perfunctorily as if bidding them
a ghastly welcome.

Tom's scout instinct impelled him instantly to fall upon the ground in
search of enlightening footprints, but there were none and this puzzled
him greatly. He felt sure that the man had not been strangled, but had
been killed by impact with some heavier branch higher up in the tree;
but he must have made footprints before he climbed the tree, and----

Suddenly he jumped to his feet, remembering what he had thought to be a
guardhouse. It lay a hundred or more feet beyond the dangling body and
as they neared it it lost its sentinel-station aspect altogether.

"Well--what--do you--know about that?" said Archer.

"It's an observation balloon, I'll bet," said Tom. "A Boche sausage!
Look for another man before you do anything else--there's always two. If
he's around anywhere we might get into trouble yet."

It was a wise thought and characteristic of Tom, but the other man was
qui