Was he indeed permitted to carry out his determination to fight for two?
Ah, that is another story.
But one little hint may be given now, which perhaps throws some light upon his future history. Some months after this momentous night Mrs. Silas Archer, whose husband had a farm with a big apple orchard in the vicinity of Temple Camp, received a small box containing a little piece of junk and a letter in a sprawling hand. And this is what the letter said:
Dear Old Mudgie:
“Wish I was home to get in the fall russets. They don’t have any decent apples over here at all. Stand this piece of wire on the whatnot in the sitting room and show it to the minister when he comes. It’s part of a German barbed wire fence. I kept it for a souvenir when I escaped from Slops prison. You won’t find that name on the map, but nobody can pronounce the real name. You don’t say it—you have to sneeze it. I had a bully time in the prison camp and met a feller that used to go to Temple Camp. We escaped together.
“Send your letters to the War Department for we’re with Pershing’s boys now and they’ll be forwarded. Can’t tell you much on account of the censor. But don’t worry, I’ll be home for next Christmas. Give my love to dad. And don’t use all the sour apples when you’re making cider.
“Down with the Kaiser! Lots of love.
“ARCHIE.”
This Isn’t All!