The German officer lowered his weapon.
“I guess you are right,” he said. “I beg your pardon.”
He appraised the boys with a critical eye, and then became more friendly.
“You are British officers?” he asked.
“We are attached to the staff of General French,” Chester replied.
“So? and at your age? I presume you have seen considerable action?”
“Considerable,” replied Hal, with a smile; “at Liège, Louvain, the battle of the Marne, and some other skirmishes.”
“You have been in luck,” said the officer. “And here I have been, ever since the war broke out, receiving prisoners as they are sent on. Worse luck!”
“Cheer up,” said Chester, smilingly, “you probably will get your chance before the war is over.”
“I hope so,” replied the German, and continued: “I am going to arrange for you to come with me—yes, and the dog, too,” as he saw Hal glance at his canine friend. “You can tell me stories of the war. Besides, I am interested to know how it is that two so young should have seen so much fighting.”