"You're meeting trouble half-way."
"I like to go into the pros and cons," declared Rollo. "If you can convince me that your scheme is a sound one, I'm on; otherwise—dead off. For one thing, where are the German uniforms?"
"You've forgotten the Uhlans we slung into the ditch."
Rollo shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.
"I draw the line at donning the saturated uniform of a dead Uhlan."
"Come, don't be squeamish. If you are never asked to do a worse thing than that in the course of your natural, then you are a lucky individual. You'll find it's like taking a header into the sea on a gusty summer's day. The wind makes you shiver, and you think twice about it, but once you are in the water it's comparatively warm."
"You haven't got over the language difficulty."
"Yes, I have; at least I think so. If we meet any patrols, you must pretend to be half-dead——"
"I guess I shall be dead entirely if we do."
"Badly wounded, then. I'll bandage you up, and at the same time put a scarf round my jaw."