"Hush!" cried Franz. "Do you want me to be robbed of it? I got it off an Englishman who died," he went on. "You see the Red Cross sends packages of food and things like chocolate to the Allied prisoners. Sometimes we get 'em, and, more often, we don't. The Huns know a good thing when they see it. But this Englishman got a package just before he died, and when he found he was going West he divided it out among some of us. I've kept my chocolate ever since, though many a day I've been almost wild to eat it." "What'd you save it for?" asked Bob. "You didn't know I was coming." "No, but"--again Franz whispered--"I would need it if I escaped. I was saving it for that." "And you think there isn't a chance to get away now?" Franz looked around and cautiously replied: "I think there's a chance, but there's no use dying of starvation waiting for it. I heard that there is to be another distribution of food packets from the Red Cross soon. We can save some of that, if we get anything, and take it with us if we're lucky enough to break out. Come on, I'll get the chocolate." Franz led the way to one of the barracks where he and his fellow prisoners were herded. Herded is the right word, too. It was a miserable place. Franz went to his "bunk," which, was a mere apology for a bed. Looking about, to make sure he was not observed, he removed a loose board in the floor and took out a package wrapped in some old rags. In the package were two cakes of sweet chocolate. "We'll divide one now, and save the other," whispered Franz. "No telling when we'll get more." Bob never would have believed that chocolate could taste so good. It was nourishing, and small as was his portion and that of Franz, they both felt better after munching the confection and drinking some water. Miserable days followed Bob's arrival at the prison where Franz was held. In common with other unfortunates, the Khaki Boys were starved, beaten at times, and driven forth to labor for their captors. At night they were herded back to the barracks. "I don't see how we're ever going to escape," sighed Bob one night after a wearying day. "I'm willing to give up!" "Don't say that!" urged Franz. "This very night some of us are going to get together in the dark and talk matters over. I have a plan. It may fail, but we might as well be shot while trying to escape as to lead the life we do." This information seemed to bring new life to Bob. And that night, between inspections of the guards, a silent band of prison conspirators met in a dark corner of the barracks. Franz whispered to them his plan of escape. "What do you think of it?" he asked. "It's desperate," said an Englishman. "But let's try it!" suggested another. "Otherwise I shall go mad!" And so the daring resolve was taken. CHAPTER XXII THE ESCAPE Silently, the desperate prisoners crouched in the dark corner of the miserable German camp. Their hearts that had been so deep in despair now beat with new hope.