"No use," murmured Frank to Bart. "Nobody home."
"Padded cell number nine hundred and ninety-nine," whispered Billy.
It was of no use to argue against such credulity, and the lieutenant gave it up.
The prisoners were marched back to camp, where the news of their coming had preceded them. It created a great sensation, and was the main topic of conversation for many days thereafter.
"It's been a red letter day," remarked Bart that night, as he prepared to climb into his bunk.
"You bet it has," agreed Frank. "We bagged a Zeppelin!"
Two days after these momentous events, a stir of expectation ran through the camp. Evidently some important move was in prospect. What it was, the rank and file did not know, but rumors and conjectures ran riot.
"There's something big coming, boys," said Frank, one night after supper.
"That's plain enough," agreed Bart. "But I'd give a lot to know just what it is."
"The corporal gave me a private tip," replied Frank. "He didn't go very far into it, but from what he hinted I have a hunch that none of us will go to bed to-night."