d in the channel--'i, Freddie?"

"An' I 'ad tickets in me pocket to tike me girl to the pl'y in
Piccadilly that night. Mybe she's witing yet," responded Freddie.

"Let 'er wite. Hi, Fritzie, we're a-goin' to add four shillins' to the
bloomin' indemnity, to p'y fer the tickets!"

Further conversation with this blithesome pair elicited the information
that they had been taken by a German destroyer while in a small boat in
the act of mine inspecting, and that the men in oilskins (the one who
had spoken being an American) were captives taken from a sunken British
trawler.

One by one these prisoners were passed into an inner room where each
remained for about five minutes. When the sailor came out, he held up a
brass tag which had been fastened with a piece of wire to his
buttonhole.

"I got me bloomin' iron cross," he said, "and I'm a-goin' to mike me
'ome in Slops! Kipe yer fingers crossed w'en yer go in there, Yank; tike
me advice!"

"I hope I go there too if you're going," said Tom, "'cause you make it
seem not so bad, kind of, bein' a prisoner."

"Hi, Fritzie!" the sailor called. "I got me reward for 'eroism!"

But apparently the German soldier could not appreciate these frivolous
references to the sacred iron cross, for he glowered upon the young
Englishman, and turned away with a black look.

"Hi, Fritzie, cawrn't yer tike a joke?" the sailor persisted.

Tom thought it must be much better fun to be an English soldier than a
German soldier. And he thought this good-natured prisoner would be able
to hold his own even against a great Yankee drive--of jollying.

FOOTNOTE:

[3] England.

CHAPTER XXII

HE LEARNS WHERE HE IS GOING AND FINDS A RAY OF HOPE

It seemed to Tom that the two German officials who sat behind a table
examining him, asked him every question which could possibly be framed
in connection with himself. And when they had finished, and the answers
had been written down, they made a few informal inquiries about American
troops and transports, which he was thankful that he could not answer.
When he returned to the ante-room he had fastened to his buttonhole a
brass disk with a number stamped upon it and a German word which was not
"Slopsgotten," though it looked as if it might be something like it.

"Let's see," said the sailor; "didn't I jolly well tell yer?
Congratulations!"

"Does it mean I go to Slopsgotten?" Tom asked.

"They'll keep us there till the war's over, too," said