A flash of lightning preceding the storm that had hung off all day split the sky, and in its momentary glare the boys saw a small squad of American soldiers come out into the little clearing. The boys stood aside as they passed. Another squad brought up the rear, and between them--yes, between them marched, or rather staggered, a dismal company of twenty haggard skeletons headed by Fritz! He had kept his word. The men were evidently frightened badly and Fritz kept talking to them as they advanced. The General came out of his shelter and surveyed them by the light of his flash. “Here they are, sir,” said Fritz. “Ask them what you like.” The General spoke to the weary men and they replied rapidly in harsh, hoarse voices. Porky and Beany stood in an agony of curiosity, wishing that they had studied German instead of Latin in high school. Finally the General took time to explain to the officers who did not understand. He gave orders to have the prisoners fed, and soon the strange little company wound off down the hill again on its way to the prison camp. Fritz, as a sort of trusty, was given special privileges. “It is quite true, gentlemen,” said the General. “The conditions in the enemy’s army are most serious. They are only half fed, poorly clothed and letters occasionally smuggled from home report a frightful state of affairs--famine, disease and intense suffering among the families of the soldiers. This alone you know will break the morale of their troops. “And Fritz said he could have brought five hundred men as well as this twenty, but they are taught that we torture them and always shoot our prisoners sooner or later. That is why they fight so desperately. “They think death awaits them in any case, and that death on the battlefield is far preferable to that which we will mete out to them if taken prisoners. “Fritz assured me that he had set the ball rolling, however, the news of our millions of men in the field. This has been a surprising experience but we are already late. We must be off!” Rapidly the party took their seats in the automobiles. The first was about to start when a motor was heard in the darkness. It was approaching, apparently from headquarters. “Word for the General!” was the whispered word, and sure enough, the driver of the swift, low car had a letter for the General. He read it and called the boys. “News for you, young men,” he said regretfully. “General Bright has been recalled to the States, and you are to return with him. This cuts your stay several weeks and, I regret to say, makes it impossible for you to continue with us. You are to return in this car.” The boys, desperately disappointed, hopped out, found their field kits, and advanced to say good-by to the General. He shook hands heartily and patted each on the shoulder.