"Here, he doesn't understand. Let's try him with a bit of French," said Bill, stepping out to the bewildered German. "Speak English?" he asked, and then, as the man answered "Nein"; "then understand this," he told him in French, "you're to act as sentry. If you are challenged by any other Germans, simply say that you've been put here by orders. Don't try to play any games with us. My friends here are Americans, and perhaps you know what that means: they can shoot. You understand that, eh?"
The man nodded; his mouth gaped for a moment, and then, flinging his rifle over his shoulder, he began to move to and fro, to and fro, like an automaton, glancing sheepishly at the entrance to the dug-out, and seeing there every now and again a little niche or opening, and from that niche the faces of either Jim or Larry or Bill, and sometimes also the muzzle of a revolver. It was marching to and fro that comrades of his saw him, and, taking it for granted that he had been stationed there to watch the dug-out, they passed on without thinking to challenge him. For the moment, in fact, Bill's ruse had saved his comrades from capture, but how long would it act in that manner? The sentry could not possibly march to and fro for ever, and presently there would be more Germans in the neighbourhood. What then?
"Aye, what then?" asked Larry thoughtfully, as he cocked and uncocked his revolver.
"Ah!" replied Jim, unable to fathom the difficulty.
"A teaser," agreed Bill. "Let's hope for the best! What about a meal anyway?"
"Fine!" was Larry's terse rejoinder.
CHAPTER XIII Surrounded
"Let's count heads," said Bill, some hours after the German sentry was posted and when one of the watchers had reported that he still continued diligently at his post. "It's getting dark—things will be moving presently."