e paperrs
before it gets too darrk, hey?" he added, hauling from his pocket the
papers which he had taken from the dead Boche. "I neverr thought about
'em till just now?"

"I thought about it," said Tom, who indeed seldom forgot anything, "but
I didn't say anything about it 'cause it kind of makes me think about
what happened--I mean how they took her away," he added, in his dull
way.

For a minute they sat silently gazing down at the vineyard which was now
touched with the first crimson rays of sunset.

"You can just see the chimney," Tom said; "see, just left of that big
tree.--I hope I don't see Frenchy any more now 'cause I wouldn't like to
have to tell him----"

"We don't know what happened," said Archer. "Maybe therre werren't any
otherr soldierrs; she may have escaped--and her motherr, too."

"It's more likely there _were_ others, though," said Tom. "I keep
thinking all the time how scared she was and it kind of----"

"Let's look at the papers," said Archer.

The German soldier must have been a typical Boche, for he carried with
him the customary baggage of written and statistical matter with which
these warriors sally forth to battle.

"He must o' been a walking correspondence school," said Archer,
unfolding the contents of the parchment envelope. "Herre's a list--all
in German. Herre's some poetry--or I s'pose it's poetry, 'cause it's
printed all in and out."

"Maybe it's a hymn of hate," said Tom.

"Herre's a map, and herre's a letter. All in Gerrman--even the map.
Anyway, I can't understand it."

"Looks like a scout astronomy chart," said Tom. "It's all dots like the
big dipper."

"Do you s'pose it means they're going to conquer the sky and all the
starrs and everything?" Archer asked. "Here's a letter, it's dated about
two weeks ago--I can make out the numbers all right."

The letter was in German, of course, and Archer, who during his long
incarceration in the prison camp had picked up a few scraps of the
language, fell to trying to decipher it. The only reward he had for his
pains was a familiar word which he was able to distinguish here and
there and which greatly increased their desire to know the full purport
of the letter.

"Herre's President Wilson's name.--See!" said Archer excitedly. "And
herre's _America_----"

"Yes, and there it is again," said Tom. "That must be _Yankees_, see?
Something or other Yankees. It's about a mile long."

"Jim-min-nitty!" said Archer, staring at the