"Yes, I suppose so," Slim answered. "But how'd you like to have some sausage, and some plum pudding, and——"
"Don't," pleaded Jerry. "The idea is too much. My stomach is accusing me of gross carelessness now."
"Wonder what's in that letter from Brighton, and who wrote it?" said Sum, glad to change the subject and forget his own hunger.
"Can't imagine, but my own curiosity has been as to whether the fine news Joe mentioned comes from there or refers to something at headquarters."
And so, sore, tired and hungry, but happy withal, they continued on. The moon waned and set, and tradition proved itself—it became darkest just before dawn.
"Wait!" said Jerry, just at this stage of the journey, and he jumped from his horse to recover something that he had seen the German lieutenant drop.
It proved to be a packet of papers, bearing the official German army seal.
"Ah-ha!" Jerry cried, riding up to the officer and thrusting the documents out before him. "So you thought to get rid of them, eh? Well, we'll just take these along to headquarters, too. They may contain something of interest to our commanders. Yes?"
The lieutenant gave an ugly, menacing grunt, but refused to say a word.
Daylight came, and with it a clear view of the American lines. A quarter of an hour later they saw two horsemen coming toward them. Slim examined them carefully with his glasses.