"Look, over there are hundreds of little fires flickering!" exclaimed Tubby.
"Those are the camp fires of the Germans," Rob told him. "I want to fix them in my mind, because we will have to make a wide detour, so as to avoid running across any patrol on the outskirts of their camp. I hope by the time daylight comes we can be far enough around to get off without being seen. The worst thing is this khaki uniform business. If only we had on ordinary clothes we might be taken for Belgian boys. But, as it is, they'll think we're soldiers, or at the least Belgian scouts, and they treat them as if they were regular enlisted men."
Shortly afterward they again sought the barn. The lantern once more hung on its accustomed hook, and by its friendly gleam Rob and his two chums were enabled to find the place where on the preceding night they had slept so well. The wounded men happened to be removed from them by some little distance. They could be heard occasionally groaning, or talking in low tones; but, as the boys were too tired to remain awake long, they soon lost all consciousness of what was passing around them.
Perhaps the crowing of a rooster nearby may have told Rob that it was in the neighborhood of three o'clock, for he aroused his chums close to that time.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE HANGING BRIDGE.
"Do we have to get out at this terribly early hour?" asked Tubby, as he dug his knuckles into his eyes, still heavy with sleep.
"Yes," said Rob. "I've taken a look at the stars, and it must be half-past two, or near it. You know I've made it a practice to be able to tell the hour of night in that way, and can hit it every time. Come, get a move on you, Tubby, unless you'd prefer staying here in the hay and waiting till we come back."