a loyal fellow in his situation might have picked up
something that would be of advantage to our people, though it isn't
likely, for the Germans guard their secrets pretty well."

"What's the use of talking?" burst out Bart. "We fellows are all onto
Rabig. We know at this minute that he'd like nothing better than to
see the United States licked by Germany. Don't we know that he let
that German prisoner escape? Don't you know that he was talking in the
woods at night with that German spy that you shot? I tell you
straight, Frank, that if Rabig escaped it was because the Germans let
him escape. If he has information, it is because the Germans filled
him up with just the kind of information they wanted our officers to
believe."

"I think Bart's right," remarked Billy. "It'll be the best day this
regiment ever saw when Rabig's stood up before a firing squad."

"In my heart I believe the same," assented Frank. "But the tantalizing
thing is that we haven't a bit of legal proof. Rabig had that cut on
his hand to explain the escape of the prisoner. He seemed to be
sleeping in his bunk that night I got back from the woods. So far he
has an alibi for everything. We can't prove that he let himself be
captured. We can't prove that the Germans let him escape. As for the
information he claims to have, our suspicions are based only on what we
know of the man's character."

"That legal stuff doesn't make a hit with me," growled Bart. "Some day
I'll break loose and take it out of him myself. My fingers itch every
time I see him. I'd hoped I'd never have to see him again."

"You're doomed to be disappointed, then," grinned Billy, "for here he
comes now."

They looked in the direction he indicated and saw Rabig coming along
the company street.

His step was swaggering and he looked immensely satisfied with himself.

Bart's fist clenched.

"Nothing doing, Bart," Frank counseled in a low tone. "Hold your
horses. I know just how you feel. I had to lick him once and maybe
you'll have your turn. But not now. I want to find out whether he
knows anything about Tom."

"All right," said Bart, "but it comes hard."

Nick saw them standing there, and for a fraction of a second seemed to
be of two minds about keeping on. He hated them all cordially and he
had no doubt of the feeling with which they regarded him. But his
hesitation was only momentary, and he came on with just a little
additional swagger in his gait