The truth was, as they learned later, he had sensed that John Big Bear, did he care to, could have proved himself more than a match even for this expert wrestler, for the Indian was bigger, stronger, equally as quick and lithe and agile. And in the last match they had seen between the two, the Indian had rapidly bent and twisted, side-stepped and squirmed until he had just the hold upon the Jap which so many times he had studied the Jap getting upon him, and then, as though his opponent was a mere child, he had lifted him into the air and placed him, impotent and shoulders squarely down, upon the mat. The gleam in the eyes of the Jap as he rose was not that of hatred or revenge, but rather of good sportsmanship, mingled with a look that told of a suspicion confirmed. John Big Bear had been learning every trick that the Jap knew, without once revealing any of his own; and the Jap realized that except by accident he never would throw the Indian in a serious contest again. These were the tactics that were being brought to bear now upon the helpless, unsuspecting Germans, and one at a time they were being rendered forever hors-de-combat and relieved of their weapons which in turn were handed over to the three lads. But if John Big Bear was strong, able and self-confident, so also was he daring, as he proved beyond all doubt that night. Having disposed in quick succession of the three Huns who were nearest the three youths, and who had been acting as their guards, the Indian was able to whisper something into their ears which made their hearts beat a little faster in startled surprise and admiration. “No kill ’em all,” John Big Bear muttered in a low tone. “Take ’em prisoner like ’em took you. Show ’em heap big s’prise party. Show ’em American kill if want, take prisoner if want. Take ’em in, show ’em Heap Big White Chief Persh.” The lads waited in awed silence for John Big Bear to make further revelations of his plan. All this time they were walking the same measured step as though nothing at all had occurred. “Maybe kill ’em lieutenant,” the Indian continued. “Anyway get ’em uniform on me. Lead ’em to American lines. You follow. No get by you. See?” The lads did see. John Big Bear somehow was going to get into the German lieutenant’s uniform, without any of his men realizing the substitution, and lead them directly into the American lines, with their supposed prisoners bringing up the rear to prevent their escape. “You know whistle?” John Big Bear asked, by way of indicating the signal he would give, when attired in the uniform and taking over the leadership of the German officer. They had heard it before. It was a sound like that of some distant bird crying in a wood. No one would suspect it came from a point less than half a mile away. John Big Bear was a ventriloquist in that respect.