He turned back my slit sleeve, unwound the bandage, took a critical look, and said, “See here, youngster, you haven’t been giving that arm a fair chance.” “What do you know about it?” I asked rather testily. “It don’t hurt much.” “It’s inflamed and in pretty bad shape,” he replied half to himself; and then in answer to my question, “I am something of a surgeon-graduate of a medical school.” Then, with medicaments taken from his kit he cleansed and bandaged the wound, saying emphatically as he turned down my sleeve, “You’ll be short an arm if you aren’t careful!” “I guess not,” I replied carelessly. “I am expecting to get among civilized folks before long and have it fixed all right.” “Oh, that’s it, is it? Well, you’ve got confidence in yourself. How do you plan to get away?” “I am watching for a chance.” For awhile he made no talk, remaining silent as though thinking, then said, “See here; suppose we chum together? I see that you are a lieutenant. My name is Gordon; I am an assistant surgeon. You’ve got confidence and courage. I’ve got some sense and lots of strength, besides a good arm and leg. Any objection to my following your lead?” “No,” I said, “I like you; I think that you’ve got the right stuff and I may need you.” He smiled quizzically, and inquired, “Had much to eat?” “No, I feel as empty as a vacuum.” “Stay here, and I will see what I can do.” Making his way through the crowd, he disappeared. It was stifling hot, and the newcomers injected into this small area had crowded it unmercifully. Meanwhile I thought over the situation, and tried to form a general plan for escape. I also thought over the possibilities of Jot’s being in that sector of the enemy’s lines. I inferred from the questions asked me under examination, that he was known in that sector and that his loyalty to the German cause had been questioned. I was turning over in my mind some of the incidents of our long acquaintance, and wondering at its contradictory phases. In the midst of my reflections I felt my arm grasped by Gordon who exclaimed softly, “Wake up, Lieutenant! There’s something doing!” In an instant I was alert and observant. “Yes,” I said, “it looks as though they were going to take us away from here.” A German officer with several non-commissioned officers and privates had begun to count the men, form them into military groups, and march them through the doorway. “They are separating the men from the officers,” said Gordon. “Possibly we may remain here.” “I think not,” I replied. “They will be keeping us on the move. If I am not mistaken their whole army is falling back. They need all the wheels they have got and legs are cheaper, especially if they belong to us; and they don’t care a bit for our comfort.” So it proved. After the men and non-commissioned officers had been moved out, there remained about twenty French and American officers.