This done, the captain mounted, taking the bridle in his left hand, retaining the automatic pistol in his right.
"March ahead, Mock. Don't try to bolt unless you want me to shoot."
In this manner they proceeded back over the road. Mile after mile they covered, meeting no one until they had come in sight of the camp, nestling in the broad valley below.
At this point such an extensive view could be had that Dick felt sure there was no eavesdropper. So he dismounted, calling the soldier to him and asking in a whisper:
"Mock, you were simply a poor, shirking soldier, weren't you?
You are, at heart, loyal to your country's Flag, aren't you?"
"I'd die for the Stars and Stripes, sir!" Mock declared, in a voice choked with emotion.
"But I felt tired, the other day, and I got a notion Captain Holmes was down on me. So I went bad and got busted. Then I hated Captain Holmes, sir, and ached for a chance to get square with him. Then that accursed carpenter fellow hunted me out, talked with me, and made me think he was my friend. If I had known he was a Kaiser-hound I'd have split his head open at the first crack out of the box."
"I didn't doubt you as a loyal man, Mock," Dick continued, in a whisper. "I spoke to you the way I did back on the road because I was sure the fellow was near and listening. I didn't care much about catching him to-night because I hope to catch him later on, and get him even more red-handed. Mock, you're loyal, and I'm going to put your loyalty, if you consent, to a hard, bitter test."
Dick went on in an even lower tone, Mock listening in growing astonishment, without replying a word, though he nodded understandingly.
"So, now," Prescott wound up, "I'm going to continue into camp with you still a prisoner and be mighty hard on you. However, I won't hold the pistol on you any longer."