“Himmel! That does sound bad,” said Hal.
“It does, indeed. Now, in my dispatches are contained practically those same words from Hindenburg—practically a repetition of the reasons he advanced at the conference, urging further attacks. Also I carry a description of the disposition of our troops and other material that Hindenburg hopes will convince von Mackensen that we must continue the offensive at all costs. Bad? I should say it is!”
Hal’s heart leaped into his throat. Here was luck, indeed.
CHAPTER XXIII
THROUGH THE LINES
Hal turned the matter over in his mind. Should he make prisoner of this talkative German officer now or should he wait until later to appropriate the dispatches the man said he carried?
Hal decided to wait.
He did this for two reasons. First, the colonel’s presence was useful right now in showing the road, and, second, he might come in handy should the party be stopped en route. So the lad decided to humor the man by continuing the conversation.
“It’s too bad, sir,” he said. “Why, I can remember in the early days of the war when the emperor figured on eating Christmas dinner in Paris. It’s too bad, sir; too bad.”
“So it is,” agreed the colonel, “but personally, I’m getting tired of this business of killing. It’s so useless, it seems to me.”
“Those are bold words, sir,” said Hal; “bold and not overly cautious, should they come to some ears.”