d so he wanted to get us before we
had a chance to strike. Well, the shoe is on the other foot, it seems."

The morning advanced. Fortunately it proved to be a fair day for so
early in April. Had a storm arisen Jack might have found it hard to find
shelter. As it was, all he had to do was to lie under the bushes and
doze from time to time.

Whenever he got to thinking of Tom a queer feeling came over him. It
made him uneasy, though he could not explain why that should be so; and
from time to time he took himself to task for being worried.

"Of course Tom got back safe and sound," he would muse. "He's too clever
a pilot to make a bad job of such a business. And yet, if he doesn't
come to-night I'll be terribly anxious. Oh, forget all that! will you,
Jack Parmly? Think of something pleasant now. For instance, that it's
nearly high noon, and most folks lunch then."

He had just calmed down again, when he had a sudden chill. Men were
working in a field about three hundred yards away, for he could hear
them calling to one another in German.

Suddenly there came a series of snappy barks. Jack looking around was
horrified to discover a small dog. It was a dachschund, long of body,
and with crooked, bandy legs. It was standing before the hidden boy and
evidently bent on telling everybody by his barks that some suspicious
person was hiding in the bushes.

It was a crisis that made Jack's blood run cold!

CHAPTER XXV

BACK TO SAFETY--CONCLUSION

Jack hardly knew what to do. He made threatening gestures at the dog,
but they, of course, only added to the trouble, for the animal renewed
his barking more briskly than ever.

Then Jack had an inspiration, such as sometimes comes when all seems
lost. If the dog continued his barking, sooner or later one of the men
working in the field not far off would have his curiosity aroused, and
come to ascertain what sort of wild animal the dog had treed.

Jack unfastened his package of food. Since stern tactics had no effect
he meant to try to make friends with the dachschund. Dogs are always
more or less hungry, he argued; and this must be especially true at that
time in every part of Germany, Alsace-Lorraine not excepted, since the
pinch of two-and-a-half years of war had made terrible inroads on all
kinds of food.

Jack commenced to eat. The dog kept on barking, though not quite so
savagely now. The smell of the food had reached him, and he would
occasionally give a litt