CHAPTER XIII.
A FIGHT IN THE DARK.
Each boy put his best foot foremost, and they traveled at top speed. They wanted to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the house where they had so lately found shelter, for there was little doubt in the mind of either that young Dersi was a traitor, and that he would soon put their erstwhile captors on their track again.
Nor were they wrong; and, had they but known what they learned later, they would have sought shelter almost anywhere rather than continue their journey afoot. Even now the same band of German motorcyclists who had given chase the night before were again in pursuit. But now, instead of an even dozen, there were thirteen. For Young Dersi himself was with them.
Just out of sight of Dersi’s home the Germans halted, and the young man himself approached the house. His mother greeted him effusively and inquired the cause of his sudden return.
“Well, mother,” he said, “I have accomplished my mission. I have learned the strength of the German army, and am now returning to my own regiment. But what of the two lads who were here? Have they gone? If not, we can all continue our journey together.”
“They departed several hours ago,” his mother informed him.
“Then perhaps I can overtake them,” said the young man. “In which direction did they go?”