It was a very angry voice that came along that wire, and the quick-witted lad instantly saw great possibilities here.
"What are you doing with yourself, Von Dussel?" demanded the voice.
"Pardon, sir," said Dennis, in his best German, "I have difficulty in catching your words; the noise of the shells is so great." And he winked delightedly at Bob. "Who is speaking, please?"
An imprecation preceded the reply. "I am the General von Bingenhammer at the headquarters of Prince Rupprecht, who is furious at the delay."
"A thousand apologies, your excellency!" said Dennis into the receiver. "The truth is, we are so hard pressed here that it is difficult to get the necessary information. My three assistants have been killed, and I have this moment returned from a personal reconnaissance, where I managed to get within fifteen yards of the trench we lost this evening, and I am afraid the news I have will be decidedly unpleasant."
"Well, what is it?" snapped the general. "Unpleasant or no, we rely implicitly on your judgment."
"Your excellency is pleased to be very kind," said Dennis, scarcely able to disguise the laughter which convulsed him.
"By Jupiter, Bob, here's a chance to rub it in!" he whispered aside. And then he very gravely gave an account of what Prince Rupprecht's agent was supposed to have discovered!
"The enemy has consolidated himself in what were our support trenches," reported the mock spy. "The Königin Augusta Redoubt was carried with great fury at six o'clock this evening, and its brave defenders practically destroyed. The English have now seventy machine-guns mounted on the work, and to take it will be impossible. In my opinion, there is nothing for it but to fall back. We can do nothing against the horde of reserves massed behind the English firing line. It is incredible the number of battalions I have seen to-night, and their howitzer batteries have been moved forward."
"Here, I say, go slow!" interjected Bob, marvelling at the clever way in which Dennis conducted his ruse.