Then came a silence, and Ned and Jerry looked at one another in the darkness. They could just make out each other’s outlines.
“Did you hear that?” whispered Ned.
“Sure I did. It was——”
“Pug Kennedy!” filled in Ned.
“And if the other didn’t speak with a German accent I’ll never draw another ration.”
“Just what I think. But what does it mean? Why should Pug Kennedy be out after hours, running the guard and meeting with men who may be enemy aliens?”
“Can’t answer,” replied Jerry. “But it’s up to us to find out. But let’s go easy. We don’t want to make fools of ourselves, and start a false alarm. Wait until we see what happens.”
They did not have long to wait. A few seconds later they heard a shuffle in the grass, and a dim figure came toward them. It was that of a soldier, as Ned and Jerry could see. Of the second person there was not a sign. But he might still be in the dark hollow, or he may have crawled off. At any rate it was Jerry’s duty to challenge, and he did it.
“Halt!” he cried, bringing his rifle to “port,” as the regulations called for. “Who goes there?”
“Friend,” was the answer, though the tone of the reply was anything but friendly. “That you, Hopkins?” came the inquiry.