The man shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. "My shoe lace came undone," he muttered finally. All the time he was talking he kept looking behind him and over the route he had just come. He seemed to be intensely nervous about something.
Harold looked at him up and down from head to foot, as best he could in the poor light. He appeared undecided as to what he should do.
"You'd better come along with me," he said finally. "I guess the captain might like to talk to you for a few minutes."
"Where is the captain?" demanded the man.
"That's nothing to you," said Harold. "You do as you're told. You walk on ahead of me and don't try any funny business; I'll be right behind you and my gun is loaded."
"Which way?" the prisoner asked.
"That way," directed Harold, indicating the High Ridge end of the bridge with the point of his bayonet. "As long as you live in High Ridge I'll see you part way home," he added drily.
"Yes, sir," exclaimed the man, it seemed almost joyously. He set out immediately, Harold following close at his heels.
"You two better go home," Harold called to Bob and Hugh as he walked off down the track.
"All right," called Bob, and then he turned to his friend. "We'll take our time," he announced.