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Army Boys in the French Trenches by Homer Randall

But that may only mean that Rabig has a yellow streak in him


yourself," came the answer.

"Do you speak English?" asked Frank in surprise.

"A little," replied the German, and proceeded to prove it by answering, although in rather a halting manner, the questions they put to him.

No, he at any rate had not wanted the war. He was a skilled mechanic in one of the munition factories. There had been a strike on account of bad conditions and he had been one of the leaders. The Government had seized him and bundled him off to the front. He was glad to be captured. After the war the Kaiser would see that men were born to be something else than cannon fodder.

"Well," remarked Frank as they moved along, "there's one fellow at least that doesn't cry: '_Hoch the Kaiser_.'"

"Seems good to see it so full," remarked Bart with great satisfaction, as he saw the large number of Germans who had been captured in the fierce fighting of the day before.

"If only the Kaiser and the Crown Prince were in that bunch," sighed Tom.

"That's a pleasure still to come," replied Frank. "But where's the fellow that tried to stab Bart? I don't see him anywhere. Seems as though the party isn't complete without him."

They made inquiry of one of the guards.

"Oh, that

one," replied the guard. "They've roped him out from the rest of these mavericks and given him a hut all by himself. I guess he's thinking of making his will. I hear they're going to have him out before a drumhead in the morning."

"Which hut is it?" asked Frank, as his eye took in a little group of shacks at the further end of the field.

"That end one down by the big tree." The guard pointed it out with the point of his bayonet.

They went down in that direction, and as they neared the hut saw that it was guarded by a single sentry.

"Who's that fellow on guard?" asked Tom. "My head's so dizzy yet that I'm seeing things double."

"Looks rather familiar for a fact," said Bart. "Wait till he turns his head this way."

The next instant the sentry turned, and there was a whistle of surprise from Billy. "By the great horn spoon!" he ejaculated. "It's Nick Rabig!"

"Set a Hun to watch a Hun," remarked Tom bitingly.

"Oh, come, Tom," remonstrated Frank, "that's going a little too far. I've no reason to like the fellow, and we know he had to be dragged into the army, but that doesn't say he's a Hun."

"All except the uniform," persisted Tom. "He'd rather be fighting for the Kaiser this minute than for Uncle Sam."

"Shouldn't wonder if Tom's more than half right," assented Billy. "You know the way he" used to talk in Camport."

"You notice that we've never seen him volunteering for any of the raiding parties," said Billy.

"But that may only mean that Rabig has a yellow streak in him. It doesn't say that he's a traitor," returned Frank.

"Well, maybe he isn't," conceded Tom. "But all the same it seems rather queer that he should have been picked out to guard this Heinie. They could talk together in German through that closed door and nobody be wise to what they were saying."

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