we were in great danger of being searched. Whenever the
Commandant thought of it, he ordered a search. Just as the Commandant
at Giessen was keen on rings, so this one went in for searching. We
were searched at unexpected times--going out to work or coming in--at
meal-times or at bedtime.

The following day--Sunday--we sat around with our saddest, most
dejected air, like two men in whose hearts all hope had died. We had
everything ready--razor, tobacco, matches, toffee tin, toothbrush,
comb, pocket-knife, watch, soap, strong safety-pins, and some strong
string. Edwards had the sun-glass, shaving-soap and brush, and other
things to correspond with mine.

It was quite a grief to us to have to leave behind us all the things
we had been saving from our parcels. The people of Trail, British
Columbia, had sent parcels to all their prisoners, and one of mine
had followed me from Giessen to Vehnemoor and from Vehnemoor to
Parnewinkel, and at last had found me. It contained, among other
things, hard-tack biscuits, just the thing for carrying in our
pockets, and my aunts in Ontario had sent me some line dried beef and
tins of jam. At this time, also, an exceptionally good box came from
Miss Ray, of London, England, and home-made candy from Miss Dorothy
Taylor, of New Westminster, British Columbia. We had a regular
blow-out on Sunday, but were too much afraid of being searched to
risk taking anything with us beyond the necessary things, and so had
to leave our precious stores behind. Oh, well--they wouldn't go to
waste!

Monday morning we dragged our tired feet along the four miles to the
turnip-patch--with every appearance of complete submission. I had the
compass in the middle of a package of tobacco; my maps were still in
the pay-book case in my pocket.

We gave ourselves up to the joy of labor, and pulled weeds all day
with great vigor. We wanted to behave so well that they wouldn't
notice us. Of course we were not sure that any chance would come. We
might have to carry our stuff for several days before we should get
a chance.

That night we came into the kitchen again and sat down at the long
table. Every one was hungry and fell to eating without a word. No
wonder the guard thought he had a quiet, inoffensive gang whose only
thought at that moment was fried potatoes. The potatoes were good,
hot from the frying-pan, and we ate as many as we could, for we
believed it might be a long time before we again sat at a table.