tuck it
into his pocket. Then the boches came swinging at us, and in the
excitement I suppose he forgot all about it. Likely enough he has it
with him now--that is if the Huns have let him keep it."

"That must be the explanation," said Frank. "Well, all I can do is
write to the colonel's brother and ask him to send me a duplicate of
the letter. Poor Tom! I'd give all the letters in the world to have
him safe with us just now."

"Same here," said Billy and Bart in chorus.

"I guess the Huns have got him," said Frank gloomily. "He isn't among
the dead or wounded as far as we've been able to find. But I'll bet
they thought they had hold of a wildcat when they nabbed him."

"Trust Tom for that," said Bart. "He was a terror when he had his
blood up. He must have got knocked on the head, or they wouldn't have
taken him alive."

"Perhaps he'd have been luckier if he had been killed," said Billy
sadly. "From all I hear there are plenty of prisoners in German camps
who would welcome death."

"It makes me grit my teeth to think of the humane way we treat the men
we capture, and then compare it with the way the Huns treat our
soldiers," said Frank bitterly. "Look at the German prisoners we saw
working on the roads that time we went away on furlough. Plenty of
food, kind treatment, good beds. Why, lots of those fellows are living
better than they ever did in their own country. They're getting fat
with good living."

"Nothing like that in German prison camps," growled Bart. "Horrible
food, mouldy crusts, rotten meat, and not enough of that to keep body
and soul together. In a few months the men are little more than
skeletons. They work them sixteen or eighteen hours a day in all kinds
of weather. They set dogs on them and prod them with bayonets. Did
you read of the forty they tortured to death by swinging them by their
bound arms for hours at a time in freezing weather?"

"It's no mistake to call the Germans Huns," snapped Billy, clenching
his fists.

"No," agreed Frank, "but it's rough on the Huns."

CHAPTER V

NICK RABIG TURNS UP

"Guess who's here," said Billy a few mornings later, as he came up to
Bart and Frank. "Give you three guesses."

"That's generous," remarked Frank. "Well, I'll bite. Who is it? The
Kaiser?"

"Come off."

"The Crown Prince?"

"Quit your kidding."

"I know," said Bart. "Hindenburg."

"Blathering boobs, both of you," pronounced Billy. "But with your