Three days later the outskirts of An-Ping were gained, and Gilbert and Ben were marched off to a small stone building which was doing duty as a temporal prison. Several apartments were filled with Japanese, but they were put in a small room by themselves. The room had a wooden bench, and in one corner was a heap of foul-smelling straw to be used for a bed.
“This is discouraging, to say the least,” remarked Ben, as he gazed around him. “I wonder how long they will keep us in this hole?”
Shortly after they arrived the Russian officer who had proved so friendly came to bid them good-by. It was the last they saw or heard of him.
On the following morning they got a taste of regular prison fare. They were given a bowl of mush which neither could touch.
“This is too strong for me,” declared Ben, after smelling the contents of his bowl.
Gilbert smiled grimly. “Just wait until you are good and hungry and maybe you’ll be glad to tackle it.”
“I don’t see you eating very fast.”
“No, I’m waiting for you to lead the way.” And then both laughed. After all there is no truer saying than that “misery loves company.”
Four days dragged along slowly. Occasionally they received something to eat which was fairly good, and then they devoured it to the last scrap, but the majority of the food was wretched in the extreme. But they had a good supply of pure water and for this, in such hot weather, they were thankful.
At the end of the fourth day came a surprise. Without warning a Russian captain stalked into the prison room and confronted Gilbert. It was Captain Barusky.