"Same here," Dick went on smilingly. "I'm as strong for my country
as you are for yours."

"But, Captain, you will have to tell us your name and rank, also
the designation of your organization. That has to be entered
on our records."

"I am Captain Richard Prescott, captain of infantry, United States
Army," Dick returned, in a business-like way. "But when you go
further, and ask me for information about the American Army, you
need expect no sensible answers."

"Take this man to the temporary prisoners' camp, and see that
he is put in the officers' section," said the questioner to the
two guards who had brought Dick in.

So Dick was led out again, and once more escorted along a road.
He judged that the walk from dug-out to camp must have been at
least two miles in length. The "prison" to which he found himself
taken consisted of a high barbed wire enclosure, with a small
wooden building at one end, and another end of the enclosure fenced
off for officers.

Into the building Dick was taken first. It contained only one
room and was evidently used as a booking and record office.

Again he was asked his name by an officer behind a desk. As before
Prescott refused to state anything further than that his name was
Richard Prescott, and that he was a captain of infantry in the
American Army.

"But you will have to tell us more than that," objected the German
officer blandly.

"I'll answer any questions you may put to me," promised Dick,
"but I won't agree, in advance, to answer them truthfully."

Another bald effort was made to force him to answer questions,
but Dick gave evasive replies that carried no information.

"Take the fellow to the officers' section," ordered the man at
the desk, at last.

So through a dark yard Prescott was led between rows of prisoners
sleeping on the ground. Some of them, too cold and miserable
to sleep, stirred uneasily as the newcomers passed by.

It was the same in the officers' section. Though the night was
cold, all prisoners were sleeping on bare ground in the open.

There were some four hundred prisoners in this lot, all French
except Prescott.

In the officers' section he found some twenty men, also all French.
Two of them sat up as Dick entered.

"Hola!" cried one of them in his own tongue. "You are an American?"

"Yes," Prescott admitted.

"Come and join us. We have the best bed in this camp."

"It looks as if it might be hard," smiled Dick, glancing down