The ceremony of good-bys was short following Phil’s election to return as a messenger of warning to the other prisoners concerning the fiendish plot for their destruction. Pew words of advice were exchanged as to what each escaping prisoner should do. It was a case of everybody for himself with no sure promise of success for anybody. Nobody knew any more than anybody else concerning the country through which they must pass or how they might hope to conceal themselves in the daytime, or how obtain food for their already hungry stomachs. Everybody must work his wits to the limit.

This, in fact, seemed to be the general understanding, for each of the escaping prisoners apparently took it for granted that the responsibility for his own success or failure in this most important venture rested entirely on himself. No questions were asked. Everybody seemed to desire to strike out for himself as soon as possible. A few went in pairs, but most of them set out alone.

Tim said good-by to Phil last. The bullet-headed corporal, who had proved himself a boy of no mean intelligence by the manner in which he had got evidence of the wholesale-murder plot of “Count Topoff” and Aviator Hertz and reported it to his friends, was evidently much disappointed because he had not been elected to return to the prison camp of his comrade Marines and Frenchmen and warn them against the menace that would soon be upon them.

“I’m sorry I’m not going with you,” he said to his friend. “I envy you very much, old man, for while the rest of us are running away, you are going back to fight. That’s what it means, Phil, a very hard fight, and a lot of credit to you for preventing a wholesale and cowardly slaughter.”

“You evidently expect us to come out victorious,” Phil observed.

“Of course. Why not?” Tim returned with something of a challenge in his tone of voice. “Don’t you?”

“No, Tim, I can’t say that I do. Frankly, I am disposed to say good-by to you right now for the last time.”

“You’re not enough of an optimist for a venture of this kind,” Tim declared regretfully. “Don’t you expect to be able to communicate the warning to the other fellows? If you don’t, you’d better let me take your place, for I’m dead sure I can do it.”

“I admire your self-confidence,” Phil replied deliberatively; “and if I didn’t feel that I could perform the duty commissioned to me as well as you could, I’d do as you suggest. Moreover, you’d be at a disadvantage because you’d have to return to the job you left or the boches ’u’d discover the transfer and want to know the meaning of it.”

“I wouldn’t care for that,” Tim said quickly. “All I’d care for would be to get my story started among the boys and let them take care o’ the rest.”

“But I’m planning to be right on the job and do some o’ the fighting,” Phil announced eagerly. “You see, I have the pistol I took from the boche that fell into our tunnel. I can do some good work with that right at the beginning.”

“You don’t talk as if you expected to be licked,” Tim interrupted.

“Oh, I’m not going into the fight like a coward,” Phil answered reassuringly. “Up to the time when we actually mix, I suppose I shall expect to lose everything under my hat, but when I once get into the fight, I can easily imagine myself believing that I was going to lick the whole boche army single-handed. I’m sure I can feel that way if I can only fill my stomach with something substantial in the way of food. Well, good-by, Tim. I must be moving along now, and so must you. I haven’t much idea what time it is, but I should judge from the feeling of my empty stomach that it’s almost breakfast time. I want to get back into some place, if I can, where I won’t be suspected of having anything to do with the night’s escapade.”

“Good-by,” said Tim, squeezing his friend’s hand. “Good-by and good luck. All things considered, I believe now that it’s fortunate you were picked for this job. At first I had an idea I was the only one who could do it right. But I have come around to the view that you’re going to make good in a way that I might not be able to. Hope to meet you on the other side of No Man’s Land in a few days.”

Phil started up the hill again while his friend stole away in the opposite direction, taken generally by the other escaping Marines.