w he had been a
ship's boy on a transport, and had been taken aboard the German U-boat
that had torpedoed her and held in a German prison camp, from which he
and Archer had escaped and made their way through the Black Forest and
across the Swiss border.

"Some kid!" commented Roscoe, admiringly; "the world ain't big enough
for you, Tommy. If you were just back from Mars I don't believe you'd be
excited about it."

"Why should I be?" said literal Tom. "It was only because the feller I
was with was born lucky; he always said so."

"Oh, yes, of course," said Roscoe sarcastically. "_I_ say he was mighty
lucky to be with _you_. Feel like eating?"

It was delightful to Tom sitting there in their leafy concealment,
waiting for any other hapless German emissaries who might come, bent on
the murderous defilement of that crystal brook, and eating of the
rations which Roscoe never failed to have with him.

"You're kind of like a pioneer," he said, "going off where there isn't
anybody. They have to trust you to do what you think best a lot, I
guess, don't they? A feller said they often hear you but they never see
you. I saw you riding on one of the tanks, but I didn't know it was you.
Funny, wasn't it?"

"I usually hook a ride. The tanks get on my nerves, though, they're so
slow."

"You're like a squirrel," said Tom admiringly.

"Well, you're like a bulldog," said Roscoe. "Still got the same old
scowl on your face, haven't you? So they kid you a lot, do they?"

"I don't mind it."

So they talked, in half whispers, always scanning the woods about them,
until after some time their vigil was rewarded by the sight of three
gray-coated, helmeted figures coming up the bank of the stream. They
made no pretence of concealment, evidently believing themselves to be
safe here in the forest. Roscoe had hauled the body of the dead German
under the thick brush so that it might not furnish a warning to other
visitors, and now he brought his rifle into position and touching his
finger to his lips by way of caution he fixed his steady eye on the
approaching trio.

One of these was a tremendous man and, from his uniform and arrogant
bearing, evidently an officer. The other two were plain, ordinary
"Fritzies." Tom believed that they had come to this spot by some
circuitous route, bent upon the act which their comrade and the
mechanism had failed to accomplish. He watched them in suspense,
glancing occasionally at Roscoe.

The German