"Who's that fellow on guard?" asked Tom. "My head's so dizzy yet that
I'm seeing things double."
"Looks rather familiar for a fact," said Bart. "Wait till he turns his head this way."
The next instant the sentry turned, and there was a whistle of surprise from Billy. "By the great horn spoon!" he ejaculated. "It's Nick Rabig!"
"Set a Hun to watch a Hun," remarked Tom bitingly.
"Oh, come, Tom," remonstrated Frank, "that's going a little too far. I've no reason to like the fellow, and we know he had to be dragged into the army, but that doesn't say he's a Hun."
"All except the uniform," persisted Tom. "He'd rather be fighting for the Kaiser this minute than for Uncle Sam."
"Shouldn't wonder if Tom's more than half right," assented Billy. "You know the way he" used to talk in Camport."
"You notice that we've never seen him volunteering for any of the raiding parties," said Billy.
"But that may only mean that Rabig has a yellow streak in him. It doesn't say that he's a traitor," returned Frank.
"Well, maybe he isn't," conceded Tom. "But all the same it seems rather queer that he should have been picked out to guard this Heinie. They could talk together in German through that closed door and nobody be wise to what they were saying."