A small Chinese village had been reached, and here the prisoners were separated into four parties. The two young Americans were placed by themselves in a hut, in front of which two burly Russian soldiers were stationed on guard.
“I wonder what they will do with us next?” observed Ben, after a period of silence.
“Oh, I suppose we shall be taken to some Russian prison, Ben,—unless we can find some way in which to escape.” Gilbert lowered his voice. “Do you think it can be done?”
“I don’t know. If we try it, we’ll run a first-rate risk of being shot down.”
“Do you want to see the inside of a Russian prison?”
“Not much! Some of them are little better than dungeons, so I’ve heard.”
“Then we want to watch our chances.”
An hour went by, and they were given their evening meal—some biscuits and some fruit which happened to be at hand.
“I’d like to see that Russian officer again,” said Gilbert. “I want to ask him if he knows Ivan Snokoff.”
“Probably not—but it will do no harm to question him,” returned Ben.