"Yes," replied the American captain. "We lost him last October, when we were in the front line down in the Luneville sector. He was captured with eight others by the Germans."
"Well, we've got him over here on your right flank. He came into our lines this morning—" the French officer started to say.
"Bully," came the American interruption over the wire. "He's escaped from the Germans and has come clear through their lines to get back to his company. He'll get a D. S. C. for that. We'll send right over for him."
"But when we questioned him," replied the Frenchman, "he said he left your lines only last night on patrol and got lost in No Man's Land."
"I'll come right over and look at that party, myself," the American captain hastily replied.
He reached the French officer's dugout several hours later and the suspect was ordered brought in.
"He must be crazy, sir," the French orderly said. "He tried to kill himself a few minutes ago and we have had to hold him."
The man was brought into the dugout between two poilus who held his arms. The American captain took a careful look and said:
"That's not our man. He wears our uniform correctly and that's our regulation identification tag. Both of them must have been taken away from our man when he was captured. This man is an impostor."
"He's more than that," replied the Frenchman with a smile. "He's a German spy."