“Dick,” went on Frank with growing excitement, “do me a favor. Keep a sharp watch for that man and if you catch sight of him swoop right down and get in touch with him.”
“Sure,” answered Dick curiously, “but why?”
“Because,” replied Frank, and his voice was tense, “it may be Bart!”
CHAPTER XX
ON GERMAN SOIL
The boys sprang excitedly to their feet.
“Bart!” exclaimed Billy huskily.
“What makes you think that?” asked Tom.
“Of course, it’s just a guess,” explained Frank, “and I may be all wrong. But it seems to me it’s a reasonable guess. From what Dick says, the man seems to be out of his head. No sane man would go through all those drill motions all by himself. And you know that Bart was always a crank on the manual of arms. There wasn’t a quicker or smarter man at drill in the whole Thirty-seventh. We know that poor Bart was out of his head when he escaped from the hospital. What more natural than that his twisted ideas should go back to the very thing that he used to be most interested in?”
“By Jove, I shouldn’t wonder if you might be right!” cried Billy.
“Then, too, what Dick said about his being ragged would chime in with that,” exclaimed Tom. “If he were just an ordinary straggler trying to catch up with the regiment, he’d be dressed all right anyway. You know how strict the officers are that the men should look smart. But poor Bart only had on his night clothes when he got away from the hospital, and he’s probably picked up pieces of clothing here and there as he had a chance. Say, fellows, can’t we get the officers to let us go back and look into the matter?”