He did not fear the gun, which only meant a period of waiting while its bullets cracked overhead. What he did dread was a search party, as German majors are valuable birds, and must be safeguarded. The situation called for the desperate measure he took. The point of the knife entered his captive’s neck, and he whispered:
“Tell your men they must keep quiet, or you die now!”
He allowed the almost choking man to raise his head. The German knew that his life was forfeit if he did not obey the order. A certain gurgling, ever growing weaker, showed that his companion would soon be a corpse.
“Shut up, sheep’s head!” he growled.
It sufficed. That is the way German majors talk to their inferiors.
The engineer sergeant wriggled nearer.
“Couldn’t help it, sir,” he breathed. “I had to give him one!”
“Go through him for papers and bring me his belt.”
Within a minute the officer’s hands were fastened behind his back. Then he was permitted to rise and, after being duly warned, told to accompany Mason. Martin followed, and the three began the return journey. A German rocket bothered them once, but the German was quick as they to fall flat. Evidently he was not minded to offer a target for marksmen on either side.
Soon Mason was sent forward to warn the sentries. Quarter of an hour after the episode in the shell hole Martin, having come from the telephone, was examining his prisoner by the light of an electric torch in a dugout.