They passed on to the building that served as a guardhouse, and which, be it said to the credit of the boys in France, had very few inmates. For the discipline of the camp was strict and the spirit of the men was good. They felt that they stood to the French for what America was and they tried to live up to the high standards laid down for them by generations of American ancestors.
"I think that's the best place for Nick," commented Tom as the doors closed behind the prisoner. "He's a surly brute and he might affect others. One rotten apple in a barrel can spoil the whole barrelful."
"He's no good," said Bart. "Remember how he used to talk on the other side? I'll bet at this minute he'd rather be wearing a Prussian helmet than an American uniform."
"Sure thing," said Billy. "'Die Wacht am Rhine' is the only music he cares to hear."
At this moment Corporal Wilson returned with a paper in his hand upon which he had been noting down the assignments of the day.
"Two of you fellows are in for guard duty," he said, consulting his list. "You, Sheldon, and Raymond will serve till after mess."
He passed on and Bart made a wry face when his back was turned.
"Sweet job!" he muttered.
"Orders are orders," replied Frank, as they shouldered their guns and marched down to the guardhouse.
They began to pace back and forth, exchanging a word now and then at the point where their beats adjoined.