"I'll forgive him," conceded Tom magnanimously, "even if he does talk in a lingo that I can't understand."
"Why, I thought you were a finished French scholar by this time," chaffed Bart.
"Do you remember the day Tom tried to ask for soup and got his tongue twisted around 'bouillon'?" gibed Billy, with a broad grin.
"Well, I got the soup anyway, didn't I?" defended Tom.
"Sure you got it," agreed Billy. "I could hear you getting it."
Tom made a pass at him that Billy ducked.
"Talking about soup makes me hungry," remarked Bart. "If you fellows stand talking here much longer we'll be late at chow."
"I'd like to have one more look at that hut Rabig's guarding," said
Frank a little uneasily.
"We might stroll down this way again after supper if you like," suggested Billy, "but just at present a little knife and fork exercise seems the most pressing business I have to attend to."
Just then their talk was interrupted by a single shot, followed by a volley of them, and looking back in the direction from which they had come, they saw men running in the direction of the hut that Rabig had been guarding.