Bob told of the blowing up of the farmhouse, his unconsciousness and subsequent capture. "Well, I guess Roger, Jimmy and Iggy are the only ones left to fight the Germans," sighed Franz. "I don't know about Iggy," replied Bob. "I hope he's left." "Why, what do you mean? Are Rodge and Jimmy----" Franz hesitated to put his terrible thought into words. "We don't know what happened to them," said Bob. "They weren't to be found after one of the big fights we had. Whether they are killed or captured we don't know. For a time Iggy and I were the only two left of the original five. Now I'm gone, and poor Iggy may be all alone. But what sort of camp is this?" "About as bad as it well can be," said Franz gloomily. "They starve us, beat us, make us work, and do everything mean." "Any chance of breaking out?" asked Bob. And then as he looked as the heavy stockade and the bare, electrically charged wires, he added: "I guess there isn't, or you'd have tried it long ago." "Some have tried it," said Franz in a low voice, as he looked around to make sure of the persons in the immediate neighborhood of himself and Bob. "Some got away--at least, they didn't come back here. Others who tried to get away have been shot, and some poor fellows were killed on the electric wires." "Well, I guess we're doomed to stay here then," and Bob sighed. "But it's tough luck!" Once more Franz looked around. And then, to Bob's surprise, his companion in misery leaned over and whispered: "There's a chance! Just a bare chance! I can't tell you any more now. One of the guards is looking at us. Lean over and pretend to be tying your shoe!" Bob did so, his heart thumping hard with the sudden rush of hope. He tried to act naturally. "Look at these shoes!" he exclaimed, extending his foot as if he were tying a loose lace. "The fellows who caught me took my good ones and left me with these paper things. They're nearly half 'melted' now." "I had the same luck," said Franz, exhibiting his footwear, which was in the same condition as was Bob's. "But it's all part of the fearful game. Are you hungry?" "Hungry? Say, that word doesn't fit at all! I'm starved!" Once more Franz looked cautiously about. The guard's gaze seemed to be removed now, and the young prisoner spoke more freely. "Come along," he said to Bob. "There's a vacant bunk next to mine. You want to cop it while you have the chance, then we can be together. And don't breathe a word of this to anyone, but I've a couple of chocolate cakes hidden away. They're great for staving off that starved feeling." "Chocolate!" ejaculated Bob. "For the love of----"