Tom, who had listened to this in surprise, turned toward the colonel as though expecting him to explain it, but the German officer only tried to tilt his head a little higher, make his mustaches appear a little more formidable, and maintained an absolute silence.
“He don’t want to recognize me now,” Harper explained to Tom. “He’s got good reasons, too. The only good it will do him to have that arm fixed up, now that he’s recognized, will be to get well enough to be stood up before a firing squad.”
The erstwhile proud colonel made a move as though he would make a dash for his liberty.
“Oh, no you don’t,” George Harper snapped, at the same time levelling his gun at the officer. “No more of that funny work this time.”
Keeping the prisoner covered with his gun, he turned again to Tom.
“This professor-colonel and I have met before,” he explained, “and the latest time was a few hours ago. I got separated from you fellows and tried to rush a machine gun nest. I was just about to throw a grenade when this fellow caught me in the stomach with a whacking big rock. It was the handiest weapon to him, for his revolver had been shot out of his hand. I’ll say for him that he throws well. It knocked me out completely. When I came to my senses I could hardly move, but I remembered one thing, and that was that the man who laid me low was the one-time Professor Schultz, confidence man and swindler, indicted and sought by half a dozen different States, but particularly wanted by the United States Secret Service as a daring and dangerous spy. Some record you’ve got, eh, Schultzy—pardon, professor, I should address you as colonel—the crookedest colonel I ever knew.”
“Will you take him back?” Tom asked, amused despite himself at the manner in which George Harper delivered himself of his information regarding Schultz.
“I sure will,” his pal responded. “I want to get back into the thing as soon as ever I can, but honest, that fellow sure can heave a rock, and I feel as though some of my intrals have gotten too crowded together. Maybe I need a little repairing myself. I’ll be right back again, though. Come on, Schultzy,” and Harper and his prisoner trudged off.
Tom started back for the machine gun emplacement which had been his objective when the German colonel crossed his path, but he found it had long since been silenced and swept aside, and his own comrades were far ahead of where they had been when he took his prisoner.
They were now nearing the other side of the wood, with its open land beyond, but the rear guard of the Germans still were fighting stubbornly, the reason for which Tom learned later. The only way the German officers could compel those poor dupes left in the rear, to stand and fight until the rest had started well upon their escape, was to tell them that the Americans were barbarians in war and, if they captured German soldiers, would torture them to death. A Boche prisoner, fearful even of accepting a cigarette, fearing it was poisoned, until the man who offered it stuck it into his own mouth and began to smoke, finally told his captors the secret of what they previously had put down to courage upon the part of the Hun fighters.