All that day and the following night were spent in the little freight-yard. During the darkness the guards were increased, and electric lights were made to illuminate the scene, so that escape was out of the question. It still rained as hard as ever.
Dave turned the matter over in his mind for an hour or two, but finally gave it up and got what little sleep he could sitting with his back against some old railroad ties. Our hero, as well as all of the other prisoners, was by this time soaked to the skin, and many of the crowd got heavy colds, from which one or two of them did not recover.
It was not until after seven o’clock that evening that a line of freight cars came rattling into the yard. When it came to a standstill those in the yard noted from the sounds that reached them that more than three quarters of the cars were filled with prisoners. They begged for food and water and fresh air, but the Germans having the train in charge paid no attention to their appeals.
The prisoners in the yard were placed in two cars, and this time Dave was separated from Ralph Thompson. He was told to get into a car which was partly filled with packing-cases. There was room for just a dozen prisoners, and these were herded together closely.
“These are smaller quarters than any yet,” remarked one of the prisoners.
“But the car is fairly clean, and that is one comfort,” said another.
“And we can use some of these packing-cases to sit on,” added a third.
“I wonder if there is any grub in these boxes?” ventured a fourth prisoner, after the door had been closed and locked upon them. “If there is anything to eat, I’m going to have it.”
Of course, it was quite dark in the car, but one prisoner chanced to have a few matches, and one of these was lit and the boxes hastily inspected. They proved to contain pieces of small machinery, much to the prisoners’ disgust.
“We can’t eat hardware,” was the way one of them expressed himself.