“I get mine from a liaison sergeant; he’s up at the front now. Got ’em complete fooled, he has. A German fellow that was in America before the war broke out. He raised the roof over there, he says; helped to blow up one ammunition storehouse and set fire to a gun factory.”
“Mebbe I’ve seen him and I ought to know him. What’s he look like?” Don asked, making no attempt to hide his eagerness.
“Short, thick-set; looks something like a wop. Little mustache; has a cast in his eye. Good feller, though, and free with the coin. You can ask one of the cooks in there—the big one; he’s with us, too; German. Where’d you say you got your orders?”
“From the United States Government!” Don replied, suddenly pulling his automatic. “Now, hold up your hands! Up, up, I say, and keep ’em up high!”
CHAPTER VII
A Good Beginning
A SUDDEN quiet, after much complaining, settled upon the occupants of the transportation camion; Don Richards’ quick, sharp order had been heard and the driver was seen to back away with his arms in air. Then the chap with the red cross on his sleeve was heard again:
“Hey, some of you fellows in there, tumble out; will you? Bring a rope! Here’s a German!”
A sapper and one of the cooks responded at once; the latter was a big man and he came ahead, evidently wanting to keep the other back. Don heard the cook say: “I’ll be enough; you needn’t butt in.” But the sapper, a wiry little fellow, edged along just the same and he was quite sober. So was the cook, who spoke quickly: