“I understood almost every word they uttered and the plot is as clear as day,” Tim declared excitedly. “It’s simply dastardly and as treacherous as the violation of the Belgian treaty. Incidentally I learned something more, too, that will interest you considerably.

“One of those boche plotters is connected way high up, a distant relative of the kaiser himself, as I got it. He’s the fellow with the big girth—one of the bunch that captured you and brought you back behind their lines. It was plain that the other fellow held him in a good deal of awe, if he was only a second lieutenant.

“This other fellow is an aviator, I wasn’t long finding out. There’s an aviation field a short distance from here, and the ‘taube chauffeur’ flies from that field. The kaiser’s umpty-umpth nephew cooked the scheme up in his own cranium and called the flyer to the conference in the sandpit. He called the aviator Hertz, and Hertz addressed him mostly as Count, once or twice Count Topoff, and once referred to him as ‘a general in disguise.’

“Well, the plot they cooked up was this—or rather it seemed to be cooked up in the brain of ‘the count’ and was dished out to Hertz to swallow willy-nilly: The bunch of prisoners are to continue their march toward the Rhine tomorrow—or today. Is it past midnight yet? And Hertz is to come along in his aeroplane loaded with bombs. The officers are to announce that it’s an American plane on a bombing expedition and are to keep the prisoners bunched together with threats to shoot them if they try to get away.

“‘He’s arter us,’ the guards will tell the prisoners; ‘and the only way we can save our lives from his bombs and machine-gun is to keep our guns trained on you, and we’ll have to stand off at a distance to keep you from rushing us. Now, if you behave yourselves and obey orders, you’ll save not only your own lives but ours, too. But if you make trouble for us, we’ll kill as many of you as we can before he gets us, and he’ll have to treat each of us as a separate target, for we’re all scattered out around you.’

“Well, along will come the supposed American plane from the west and it’s figured that the prisoners will drink in the boches’ warning and huddle together like a lot o’ barnyard fowl in a cold rain. Hertz will then proceed to drop a dozen or more bombs on them, while the guards stand off at a distance and watch the fun.”

“But what’s the purpose in such a program as that?” someone inquired. “Why shouldn’t they go ahead and commit their wholesale murder in cold blood and admit they’re responsible for the whole business? They haven’t anything to be afraid of.”

“They’ve two reasons for doing it the way they planned,” Tim replied. “Those reasons were expressed very clearly in the course of their conversation. First, some o’ the boche leaders are pretty sore because of the reputation they’ve got for committing frightful cruelties, and a kind of chicken-hearted warning has gone out from some high source to put on the soft pedal. Still, it seems to be in the make-up of some of those scoundrels to do the most fiendish things they can think of. If they can satisfy their lust for curdled blood and throw the blame on somebody else, they can also flatter their vanity for putting the thing over with very smooth cunning. Then again, it would key up the morale of the boche soldiers to a high pitch if the story could be circulated that the Americans were such dummies that they are likely to commit such blunders as this fake affair will seem to be. You see, Hertz is going to fly in a captured French machine and will be dressed in the uniform of an American prisoner.”

“Can you beat that for sheer rascality?” Evans exclaimed. “Do you know, fellows, I don’t feel like trying to escape and leaving all those other boys to die like rats in a trap when a word from us passed among them might at least give them a chance to make some of those fiends pay the penalty of their dastardly plot when it’s put into effect. There are only about a score of guards in charge of this bunch of prisoners and I believe they could be overpowered if a concerted rush were made at the right time.”

“I confess that I feel the same way,” said Sergeant Phil vengefully. “But really, boys, it isn’t necessary for all of us to go back. One of us would be enough. He could pretend to be in sympathy with the boche cause and tell them he refused to go with the rest. That probably would get him considerable favor with them and enable him to do some effective work.”

“Who’s going to be the one to go back?” asked Evans, thereby propounding a question not at all easy to answer. Undoubtedly all of the sixteen escaped prisoners were not equally well fitted to handle the matter with like promise of success. Phil realized this, and, without intending to arrogate superior qualities to himself, replied:

“I will, unless someone else can show good reason why he could do the job better than I can.”

“I’m conceited enough to believe that I can do it just as well,” said Evans. “Unless you can show good reason why you can do it better than I can, I demand that you match coins with me to determine who shall go.”

“Where are the coins?”

“Hold on,” interposed Dan Fentress. “You two aren’t going to have a monopoly on this business. I want to come in on it.”

“All right,” said Evans; “you ought to be able to outwit a score of pie-faced boches with those squint eyes o’ yours. But I think we’d better close the nominations now, hadn’t we?”

“Not till I get in on it, if you’ll admit an outsider,” Tim protested eagerly. “I don’t exactly belong to your bunch, for the boches sort o’ took me over as chief cook an’ bottle washer, but I don’t object to being traitor to my new alliance if you don’t.”

“We’ll let you in on it, nobody objecting,” Evans ruled. “But unless somebody speaks up quick, the nominations are closed. One, two, three—they’re closed. Now, how shall we vote? Anybody got a coin to flip?”

Nobody had.

“Let’s settle it among us four candidates,” Phil proposed. “Nobody shall vote for himself. Everybody decide whom he will vote for and as soon as you’re all ready I’ll say ‘one, two,’ and instead of ‘three’ I’ll call out my vote. You do likewise.”

This was agreed upon. Presently all announced that they were ready and Phil began, “One, two—”

“Evans.”

“Fentress.”

“Speed.”

“Speed.”

Phil was elected.