A DESPERATE RESOLVE
Forgetting for the moment the fact that he was a German prisoner, Bob
Dalton, at the sight of the long-lost Franz Schnitzel, rushed forward
to greet his Brother. The two clasped hands warmly.
"Oh, but it's good to see you!" cried Franz.
"And it's good to know that you are--alive!" Bob hesitated over the
word. For poor Franz did not seem much more than alive. He was wasted
away, as were all in that horrible camp.
In the American army they had been well fed, and their condition showed
accordingly. For some time Franz, and for a shorter time, Bob, had been
fed in the German way--underfed, and that on the most miserable of food.
"How did it happen that you were captured?" asked Franz, as he and Bob
walked off a little by themselves. "I suppose you heard all about me."
"Well, not exactly," Bob answered. "We heard part of the story about
your capturing some Germans, and then either being captured yourself,
or else disappearing--we couldn't be quite sure what it was. We hoped
you were alive, even if you were a prisoner, but we couldn't be sure."
"Oh, I'm a prisoner all right," replied Franz. "There's no question
about that. And it happened just like that! I did capture some Huns,
but another party came along, rescued those I had, and copped me.
Then I was brought here, after a fearful journey. But tell me about
yourself. How did they get you?"
Bob told of the blowing up of the farmhouse, his unconsciousness and
subsequent capture.
"Well, I guess Roger, Jimmy and Iggy are the only ones left to fight
the Germans," sighed Franz.
"I don't know about Iggy," replied Bob. "I hope he's left."
"Why, what do you mean? Are Rodge and Jimmy----"
Franz hesitated to put his terrible thought into words.
"We don't know what happened to them," said Bob. "They weren't to be
found after one of the big fights we had. Whether they are killed or
captured we don't know. For a time Iggy and I were the only two left
of the original five. Now I'm gone, and poor Iggy may be all alone. But
what sort of camp is this?"
"About as bad as it well can be," said Franz gloomily. "They starve us,
beat us, make us work, and do everything mean."
"Any chance of breaking out?" asked Bob. And then as he looked as the
heavy stockade and the bare, electrically charged wires, he added: "I
guess there isn't, or you'd have tried it long ago."
"Some have tried it," said Franz in a low voice, as he looked around to
make sure of the persons in the immediate neighborhood of himself and
Bob. "Some got away--at least, they didn't come back here. Others who
tried to get away have been shot, and some poor fellows were killed on
the electric wires."
"Well, I guess we're doomed to stay here then," and Bob sighed. "But
it's tough luck!"
Once more Franz looked around. And then, to Bob's surprise, his
companion in misery leaned over and whispered:
"There's a chance! Just a bare chance! I can't tell you any more now.
One of the guards is looking at us. Lean over and pretend to be tying
your shoe!"
Bob did so, his heart thumping hard with the sudden rush of hope. He
tried to act naturally.
"Look at these shoes!" he exclaimed, extending his foot as if he were
tying a loose lace. "The fellows who caught me took my good ones and
left me with these paper things. They're nearly half 'melted' now."
"I had the same luck," said Franz, exhibiting his footwear, which was
in the same condition as was Bob's. "But it's all part of the fearful
game. Are you hungry?"
"Hungry? Say, that word doesn't fit at all! I'm starved!"
Once more Franz looked cautiously about. The guard's gaze seemed to be
removed now, and the young prisoner spoke more freely.
"Come along," he said to Bob. "There's a vacant bunk next to mine. You
want to cop it while you have the chance, then we can be together. And
don't breathe a word of this to anyone, but I've a couple of chocolate
cakes hidden away. They're great for staving off that starved feeling."
"Chocolate!" ejaculated Bob. "For the love of----"
"Hush!" cried Franz. "Do you want me to be robbed of it? I got it off
an Englishman who died," he went on. "You see the Red Cross sends
packages of food and things like chocolate to the Allied prisoners.
Sometimes we get 'em, and, more often, we don't. The Huns know a good
thing when they see it. But this Englishman got a package just before
he died, and when he found he was going West he divided it out among
some of us. I've kept my chocolate ever since, though many a day I've
been almost wild to eat it."
"What'd you save it for?" asked Bob. "You didn't know I was coming."
"No, but"--again Franz whispered--"I would need it if I escaped. I was
saving it for that."
"And you think there isn't a chance to get away now?"
Franz looked around and cautiously replied: "I think there's a chance,
but there's no use dying of starvation waiting for it. I heard that
there is to be another distribution of food packets from the Red Cross
soon. We can save some of that, if we get anything, and take it with us
if we're lucky enough to break out. Come on, I'll get the chocolate."
Franz led the way to one of the barracks where he and his fellow
prisoners were herded. Herded is the right word, too. It was a
miserable place. Franz went to his "bunk," which, was a mere apology
for a bed. Looking about, to make sure he was not observed, he removed
a loose board in the floor and took out a package wrapped in some old
rags. In the package were two cakes of sweet chocolate.
"We'll divide one now, and save the other," whispered Franz. "No
telling when we'll get more."
Bob never would have believed that chocolate could taste so good. It
was nourishing, and small as was his portion and that of Franz, they
both felt better after munching the confection and drinking some water.
Miserable days followed Bob's arrival at the prison where Franz was
held. In common with other unfortunates, the Khaki Boys were starved,
beaten at times, and driven forth to labor for their captors. At night
they were herded back to the barracks.
"I don't see how we're ever going to escape," sighed Bob one night
after a wearying day. "I'm willing to give up!"
"Don't say that!" urged Franz. "This very night some of us are going to
get together in the dark and talk matters over. I have a plan. It may
fail, but we might as well be shot while trying to escape as to lead
the life we do."
This information seemed to bring new life to Bob.
And that night, between inspections of the guards, a silent band
of prison conspirators met in a dark corner of the barracks. Franz
whispered to them his plan of escape.
"What do you think of it?" he asked.
"It's desperate," said an Englishman.
"But let's try it!" suggested another. "Otherwise I shall go mad!"
And so the daring resolve was taken.