"The enemy, if any one!" he thought, with a start, halting quickly.

Straining his ears, he listened. Undoubtedly there were voices somewhere ahead, though he could distinguish no word that was spoken.

"As I haven't seen an enemy yet, I'm going to do so if I can," the young captain instantly resolved.

Stepping to the end of the traverse, he peered around the jog.

That next length of trench appeared to be deserted, yet certainly the voices sounded nearer.

"I've got to have that look!" d.i.c.k told himself, exulting in the chance.

Softly he strode forward, then halted all in a flash. And no wonder! For he found himself standing close to the entrance to a frontline dug-out that sloped down into the earth. And the voices came from this dug-out.

Inside, as d.i.c.k peered down, he made out two figures. Yet he pinched himself with his unoccupied hand, so certain did it seem that he must be dreaming.

Of the pair below, while the older man wore the uniform of a German colonel of infantry, the younger man wore the garb of a French sub-lieutenant of the same arm. What could this infernal mystery mean?

CHAPTER XVII

d.i.c.k PRESCOTT'S PRIZE CATCH

It was the older man, he of the German uniform who now spoke.

"So Berger was really caught in the act of signaling us?"

"Yes, excellenz (Your excellency)," replied the younger man.

"And he is to be shot for treason?"

"It is so, Excellenz!"

The language used by both was German, but d.i.c.k followed every word easily.

"Too bad! And our commander will regret the loss of Berger much,"

sighed the German colonel, "for Berger has served us long and usefully. Strange that he should be caught, when he has so long and safely used that electric light pencil of his. I suppose Berger grew careless."

"It was an American officer who caught him at it and denounced him," said the younger man.

"Ah, well! At least we have you still in that regiment, and you are more cautious. You will not be caught."

"Not alive, at any rate, Excellenz," the younger man a.s.sured the enemy colonel.

"Wrong, there!" spoke a low, firm voice.

Both men started violently, with good excuse, for before them stood Captain d.i.c.k Prescott, a c.o.c.ked automatic pistol held out to cover both.

"You will both put your hands up!" d.i.c.k ordered them sharply, in German. "You will be shot at the first sign of resistance, or even reluctance. This trench is no longer German!"

Dully both men raised their hands. Quietly as Prescott spoke there was that in his tone, as in his eye, which a.s.sured them that their lives would not outlast their obedience.

"You will pa.s.s up before me," d.i.c.k continued, "and neither will attempt any treachery. I a.s.sure you, gentlemen, that I shall be glad of the slightest excuse for killing you!"

It was the German colonel who came first, for he was the nearer one. There was no visible sign of his being armed, but the younger man in the sky-blue uniform carried an automatic in a holster at his belt. d.i.c.k deftly took the pistol from the holster and was now doubly armed.

"Not the lightest outcry, nor the least attempt at treachery!"

d.i.c.k warned them sternly. "Face west! March!"

Though both prisoners obeyed promptly Captain Prescott was not simple enough to imagine that they had no plan or hope of rescue or escape. In making this double arrest d.i.c.k had realized fully that he was probably throwing his life away, yet he had deemed possible success worth all the risk.

After going thirty or forty yards the older prisoner halted squarely.

"Proceed!" d.i.c.k ordered in a stern whisper, aiming one of the pistols at the defiant one's breast.

"I do not care about being killed needlessly; neither do you,"

said the colonel. "I can save my life, and give you some chance for yours by informing you that, at the moment you appeared in the dug-out, I pressed one foot against a signal apparatus that calls our men back to these trenches. Just now I heard them entering a trench section ahead. Others have entered behind us. Your chance, your only one, will be to climb over this parapet and do your best to reach the French lines. If you decide to do that, I give you my word that I will not allow our men to fire upon you as you withdraw."

"A German's word!" mocked d.i.c.k. "Who would accept that?"

"It is your last chance for life."

"And you are throwing away your last chance, both of you!" d.i.c.k uttered in a low voice. "Each of you is within a second of death.

March!"

With an exclamation that sounded like an oath the German colonel obeyed, followed by the younger man and Prescott. Neither of the prisoners had dared risk lowering his hands.

"You are foolish---life-tired!" warned the colonel, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"If you speak again I'll kill you instantly," Prescott snapped back.

After that the prisoners proceeded in moody silence, until, at last, they rounded out a traverse and ran into several soldiers.

But these soldiers wore the French uniform. In a word, they were Lieutenant De Verne's party.

"Prisoners!" cried De Verne, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "Captain Prescott, you are indeed wonderful! But no, you bring only one prisoner, this German, for the other is Lieutenant Noyez. Noyez, my dear fellow, how do you happen to have your hands up?"

"Because of the idiocy of this American," hissed Noyez.

"Lieutenant De Verne, from the conversation that I overheard I learned that Noyez is a spy, and that he was reporting to his chief, this enemy colonel," d.i.c.k stated. "Now that I have brought them to you, both are naturally in your hands."

"It is a stupid lie that you, De Verne, must set straight," Noyez insisted angrily.

"Since Captain Prescott has made the charge, it must stand, of course, until you have been taken before competent authority,"

De Verne said coldly. "Pirot! Grugny! I turn Lieutenant Noyez over into your charge. You will give him no chance to get out of your hands. And now, we must find our way home."

Two men were sent up over the parapet, then the prisoners were ordered up and held there at the muzzles of rifles. The rest of the patrol followed.

"We will make fast time back," ordered Lieutenant De Verne, "as we know there are no enemy hereabouts in the first-line trenches."