“Yes, sir,” said Beany. He retreated under cover of the darkness, thoughtfully going around the corner of the mound as a flare brightened the sky, and he remembered, in the nick of time, that it wouldn’t do to let the two men, carefully bound as they were, see him roaring directions at an imaginary squad. He returned in a minute and saluted, although his form was only a darker shadow in the darkness of the night. Above, Porky closed the trap doors, and as he did so, cut the ropes by which they were opened and closed. Not even with his teeth could the trussed up prisoner below open them. Beany had already shut the door in the side and wedged it with a broken piece of gun-carriage. “Come with me, Sergeant,” said Porky, for the benefit of the English-speaking prisoner. “Vorwarts!” It was a strange group that gave the password a half hour later and advanced to the General’s tent. The tent, hidden from observation by blankets and thick masses of boughs, was brightly lighted. General Pershing seemed to scorn sleep. Surrounded by his staff and a group of officers from the lines below, he sat puzzling over the reports they had made. Information was steadily leaking across. Every move they made was reported correctly. Only that very night as soon as it was definitely decided that no attack would be made, the flares from the enemy’s lines almost ceased and their guns were silenced, as though they were glad to be assured of a few hours of peace. The positions of the American guns, no matter how cleverly camouflaged, were speedily discovered and gun fire trained on them. The thing had assumed a very serious look. Losses were piling up. The General listened in worried and puzzled silence. It was at this moment that the flap of the tent was suddenly opened, and two Germans, their hands tightly bound, stumbled blinkingly into the light. Behind them stood the two boys. There was a moment of surprised silence broken by the older prisoner, as he accustomed his eyes to the light. He glanced about the group, then his eyes rested curiously on his captors. A look of fury and amazement crossed his face. “Kinder, kleine kinder!” he muttered scornfully. The other man was silent. General Pershing gave a sigh. “Those twins again!” he said. The boys saluted. “Where shall we leave these, sir?” said Porky respectfully. “We left another back there.” He waved into space. _Back there_ might have been anywhere on the continent, as far as his direction showed. “It’s sort of a queer place, sir, and we would like some one to see it, because we can’t tell what it’s all for, and we don’t know that we could make the other fellow tell. He speaks English.”