“Well, so long, old man,” said Frank, as the friends prepared to go on their way. “Sorry you got stuck with guard duty. Hope your time’s nearly up.” “I’ve got half an hour at it yet,” replied Fred, as he consulted his wrist watch and shouldered his rifle. “I’ll be back with you then, if a Hun shell doesn’t get me. Their batteries have been trying to get our range, and they’re getting uncomfortably close with their high explosives. We’ll have to move our prisoners farther back if they keep it up much longer.” “Here comes a shell now,” exclaimed Frank, who had learned by long experience to tell from the whining of a shell just about where it was going to land. “Down, fellows, quick!” They dropped flat on the ground and none too soon to escape a huge shell that flew over their heads and exploded just beyond. But if it had missed them, another had not been so fortunate. The shell had struck the hut that Fred had been guarding and reduced it to atoms. It had missed Fred himself by only a matter of feet, and as he had followed the example of his friends and thrown himself to the ground he was unharmed. As the boys rose to their feet and looked around them, they saw what had happened and ran to the remains of the hut. They looked inside and then turned away. That one glance had been enough to tell them what had become of Rabig. He had gone to his last account, and there was no further need of any earthly court to judge his deeds and fix his punishment. “And it was the very people to whom he sold out that killed him,” mused Frank, as the remains of the dead traitor were gathered up to be taken away for burial. There was no sense of exultation in their hearts, only a feeling that in a singular way justice had been done to a man who had committed the unpardonable crime of betraying his country. They had been to mess that evening, and were talking over the events of the day, when an orderly came to say that Frank was wanted at headquarters. Wondering somewhat what the summons might mean, and pursued by the chaff of his friends, who predicted all sorts of dire things in store for him, Frank obeyed the summons, and was surprised and pleased to find Colonel Pavet waiting to see him. The pleasure was felt also by the colonel, as was shown by the warmth of his greeting. Each owed a great deal to the other. Frank, as my old readers will remember, had saved the colonel’s life when the latter was lying wounded on the battlefield and had carried him off to safety amid a storm of bullets. The colonel, on the other hand, had been kindness itself in looking after the interest of Frank’s mother in property that had been left to her in France. “Ah, Monsieur Sheldon, how glad I am to see you again,” said Colonel Pavet. “No more than I am to see you, sir,” returned Frank, shaking the hand which the colonel in sheer disregard of the difference in rank had extended to him. “I hope that you are well.”