“Then here’s hoping for a quick release from this hole,” said Fritz bitterly.
“To-morrow,” said Peter; “to-morrow our hosts will sweep across this valley, and we will be with our own again.”
“Oh, I hope for some release. It’s the hardest duty I have ever been given.”
“But think how we have been able to guide our guns, talking as we can to the airplanes through the clever arrangement of our three little trees on top of our delightful little hill.” He laughed. “How clever it all is! And no one will ever suspect!” He paused again to chuckle, and Porky quite suddenly shoved a sharp elbow into Beany’s ribs.
“Well, I’m sick of it,” said Fritz still in his low, hoarse whisper, and seemed to move away from the side of the hill where he had been standing.
The boys with the greatest caution wriggled away.
“Now what do you think of that?” said Porky when they were in a position where they could talk in safety. “What do you think of that?”
“Anyhow,” said Beany, “they aren’t spies. I’m sort of fed up on spies. I can stand for most anything else.”
“No, they are not spies. I can’t make out just what their little game is. It’s important, though; you can see that. And we have got to stop it somehow.”
“That ought to be easy enough. Just go back and get the bunch and a few soldiers, and take ’em.”