"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." "I don't suppose the officers know Rabig as well as the rest of us do," said Billy. "But say, fellows, look at that bit of white under the door of the hut. What do you suppose it is?" "Oh, just a scrap of paper," laughed Bart. "Just like the Belgian treaty." "Something the wind's blown up against the door, I guess," conjectured Tom. "Wind nothing!" exclaimed Frank, whose vision was keener than that of any of the others. "It's under the door and it's getting bigger and bigger all the time. I tell you what it is, fellows," he went on excitedly, "it's a note that's being pushed out by the fellow inside." "Let's get behind these trees and see what's going on," suggested Bart, indicating a clump of trees near which they happened to be standing. In a moment they were screened from observation. Then they watched with the keenest interest what would follow.