Even then the greatest care was taken in opening it, for fear of an infernal machine of some sort. It opened easily, however, and without harm and disclosed a mass of papers. So many that the German officer who had been in charge of them, fearing capture, had evidently buried them, thinking that with the turn of battle he could easily reclaim them from the earth. Among the papers were several cypher keys, and one of them was found to fit the papers found by Beany in the oak table in the dungeon at the chateau back at headquarters. Even the General was delighted, as a little study disclosed the most important plans of the coming campaign and a scheme for the expected drive, which now could be met point for point. It was dusk before the General and his staff finished with an examination of the papers, fitting the new keys to the papers already in their possession. Porky allowed himself to crow. “Guess we are sort of little old Handy-to-have-around!” he chortled. “Guess we get to go all the way with _this_ distinguished mob!” “Looks so,” said Beany, “but you never can tell.” _And they couldn’t._ CHAPTER VIII ORDERS ARE ORDERS Night fell dark and stormy. As soon as it was dusk Fritz begged to be released and, receiving the General’s permission, slipped away. “I doubt if he comes back,” said the General, “but it will spread the news at least. No, it is too much to expect that a man will persuade a couple of men, to say nothing of twenty, to give themselves into the hands of an enemy they have been taught to believe is ruthless, but if he does, we will know that the conditions in the German army are worse than we dream.” Time dragged away. The boys, still believing in Fritz, sat at the head of the only trail, watching. They almost wore their watches out looking at them, and trying them to see if they were wound. Time seemed to stand still and yet, somehow, ten o’clock came, and eleven and a quarter past. At half past the drivers prepared the cars for their silent night journey to the next sector. The tents were down, all but the screen of blankets behind which, with a closely shaded light, the General sat. Ten minutes and the boys looked once more at the illuminated dials, and sighed. “I’d have bet on that duck, if I was a betting man,” said Porky sadly. “I bet he _meant_ to come.” “Hark!” said Beany, listening. Porky listened too. He could always hear what Beany heard, if Beany called his attention to it. A soft tramp of feet could be heard. The boys leaped to their feet. Tramp, tramp, scuffle, scuffle, up the hill in the darkness! “They are coming!” gasped Beany. They were.