With one accord the lads turned from the swarm of rats.

"Where are you going?" demanded a strange voice from the darkness.

"Who are you?" asked Ned, startled by the sudden question.

"Maybe I'm a friend," was the answer. "Yes, I guess I am."

CHAPTER III

OUT OF THE FLAMES

When the soldier who had been holding his rifle at Jimmie's back lowered the weapon and the ceremony of administering the oath of allegiance to the Kaiser had been completed, the red-headed Boy Scout who had been masquerading under a Cossack uniform breathed a deep sigh of relief that but faintly expressed his sentiments.

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Jimmie maintained a mental reservation that little less than contradicted his words so recently spoken. He felt that it would be only policy to obey the orders of those in superior force, since he could see no advantage to be gained by a flat refusal. His thoughts rapidly compa.s.sed the situation, and he recognized the fact that the invading horde of Germans were in no mood to consider dispa.s.sionately the matter of a boy more or less who was found under the circ.u.mstances in which they had discovered Jimmie.

Reluctantly, therefore, but because he thought it by far the better plan, the lad had submitted to the course insisted upon.

During all the time that he had been repeating the words after the officer the boy had been mentally conjecturing a means of escape whereby he might rejoin his chums and be fairly sure of the escape of the entire party from the hands of the army that had so recently captured Peremysl and who were now engaged in bringing order out of the apparent chaos that reigned.

Not until the searching party returned and reported to the Captain their unsuccessful quest after his three comrades did Jimmie realize that an effort was being made to apprehend them.

Then he began to believe that it was not the intention of the German Captain to allow the boys to leave the country. The thought was a very disquieting one. In entertaining it, Jimmie felt himself fully justified in taking any possible course of escape.

"Well, my lad," began the Captain, addressing Jimmie in a not unkindly tone, the while his blue eyes regarded the lad with an amused glance, "now that you are a full-fledged Uhlan and your comrades are on their way home, you will be fitted out with a new uniform by the proper department. See that you select a good strong one, for we have plenty of rough work ahead of us. Yes?"

"Very good, sir!" replied Jimmie with outward politeness, although his heart was filled with rage at the thought of donning the German uniform. "I shall try to do well whatever I undertake."

"Spoken like a man!" declared the officer with a short laugh.

A brief order spoken in the German language to an orderly nearby resulted in that individual signing to Jimmie. Obediently the lad followed his new guide. Past groups of soldiers who were, by their fair hair, round cheeks, blue eyes and general stocky build, members of the German army, the boy and his conductor took their way.

Not far down the street they came upon several wagons in charge of a commissioned officer, before whom the guide stopped with a very formal salute. After receiving a recognition of his salute the guide explained his errand. A laughing response greeted his explanation of circ.u.mstances. The officer called one of his aides, and the work of outfitting the erstwhile Cossack began.

Jimmie discovered that the wagons were veritable stores on wheels, and was greatly surprised at the neatness and order with which the large a.s.sortment of goods were disposed. No difficulty was experienced in securing clothing of the proper dimensions, and Jimmie soon stood forth to all external appearances as loyal and brave a Uhlan as ever followed the banner of the Emperor or stuck a lance into a dummy at riding exercise. He could not restrain a laugh at the peculiar round cap that was fitted to his head.

"Now I'm hungry!" he declared as he surveyed himself in his new regalia. "Where's the eats?" he asked of the guide.

A stare from a pair of pale blue eyes was the only response.

"I say," began Jimmie in a louder tone, "I haven't had anything to eat for a long time. I'm hungry!" he finished in a shout.

Another stare and a nod of the head greeted this outburst.

"Aw, come off!" was Jimmied disgusted sally. "Where are your ears?

Wake up! It's six bells and the cook has struck. Here--"

Seizing the guide by the sleeve, Jimmie shook his finger under the other's nose for attention. Then he repeated his old-time universal sign language denoting hunger.

The guide followed with great interest Jimmie's motion of pointing into his open mouth and gazed delightedly at the patting of the stomach.

Apparently, however, he could discover nothing amiss with the belt buckle or any of the accoutrements that adorned the person of the new-found recruit. He shook his head in a negative way.

"Oh, you mutton-head!" scorned Jimmie. Then, recalling the few words of German he had learned in haphazard fashion, he began again, pausing between each word to give emphasis to his request.

"Ach, Ich say, old scout," he stated, "Ich would like some brodt haben, und sauer kraut, und wiener wurst, and kaffee, and pumpernickel, und kaffekuchen, und Kolbfleisch, und--oh, whatever you have handy."

A smile slowly spread over the face of the guide as he began to comprehend Jimmie's meaning. He nodded vigorously.

"And I say, dumbhead, Heute Ganse Braten!" Jimmie added vigorously.

"There!" he declared in an undertone, "I know I saw that sign in d.i.c.k Stein's restaurant on the north side in Chicago one time when I was there, and I asked the man what it meant. He said it was German for 'We have roast goose to-day,' and I'd like a little of that, too."

"So-o," drawled the guide. "Und you haf been by Stein's restaurant?

Yes? Vell, I vas waiter dere for two, tree year. It is a nice blace."

"You rascal!" shouted Jimmie. "You understood me all the time. Why didn't you let me know you understood English at first?"

"Maype I didn't understand," the other stated simply.

"Maybe you didn't, and again maybe you did," retorted the lad rather tartly. "If you keep on playing your monkey shines on me, you'll get me sore pretty soon, and I'll be tempted to cloud up and rain all over you. And there'll be considerable dunder und blitzen along with the cyclonic disturbance in the atmosphere," he added.

"All right," was the calm response. "You iss hungry. Maybe you vant someding to eat. Yes? Or maybe not?"

"Great frozen hot boxes!" cried Jimmie in a despairing tone. "I don't see how, with all the scarcity of ivory in the market, the billiard ball makers let you roam about at large so long. Why," he added with rising indignation, "you're giving the exact symptoms of a chap who is ossified from the shoulders to the sky! Of course I want to eat, and I'd be de-lighted to perform that simple operation now."

"But to eat before mess, it is verboten," declared the guide.

"Say," retorted Jimmie, "just let me have your name and the address of any relatives you want notified in case of accident. Something is going to blow up pretty soon, and when the explosion is over they'll go around with a sponge to gather up the pieces of the innocent bystanders. Among those present was a former waiter at d.i.c.k Stein's."

"Ach, yes," slowly replied the other. "My name iss Otto von Freundlich. In America I am called Friendly Otto. It iss so in der telephone book. Names iss backwards put down."

"Well, if you'll just be good enough to get me one of those nice large German pancakes that we used to get at Stein's, with a couple of cups of coffee and a little 'T' bone steak well done, with some fried potatoes and a side order of cauliflower in cream, some cold slaw, a little lettuce, some lentils, and a small platter of sauer kraut, I'll try to worry along until mess time. Can't we eat at all?"

"No, not all of dot," soberly responded Otto seriously, evidently believing that Jimmie intended to eat everything he had mentioned.

"Then for pity's sake tell me what I can have. I'm getting so hungry I could almost eat the wheels off this wagon."

"Maybe a little soup und some rye bread?" replied Otto inquiringly.

"That listens good to your Uncle Dudley," was Jimmie's response in a somewhat mollified tone. "Lead me to it and I'll do the rest."

"Come," directed Otto, starting away and beckoning the lad to follow.

"Come; der cook maybe has something good for hungry soldiers."

Jimmie followed with much interest, taking note of everything as he went along. Here he saw a group of soldiers resting after some evidently heavy work. There another group were arranging their accoutrements and polishing their weapons as they rested in the shade of a broken wall that had withstood the heavy hammering of the immense German guns during the days of bombardment of the city.

Wagons were drawn up along the side of the street, gasoline trucks were darting hither and thither on various errands, while small groups of hors.e.m.e.n were constantly pa.s.sing to and fro about the town.