"Forward, march!" ordered Franz, in German. And how those words thrilled the prisoners! They filed past the sentry who had turned to go back into his little box. Then, as Bob, who brought up the rear, was about to go through the gate which the sentry had unlocked, something seemed to strike the guard as wrong. "Your men have no guns, corporal," he said. "And to bring in prisoners----" "Bah! An unarmed German is a match for any number of the swine-dogs!" returned Franz. "Right! Pass on!" chuckled the guard. And the prisoners were outside the gate! CHAPTER XXIII THE SECRET PACT Jimmy and Roger, fighting in the cave with the Bixtons, never afterward could tell exactly how it happened. Certainly by all rules and regulations of personal encounters it ought to have been easy for the two scoundrels, physically comparatively fresh, as they were, to have overcome the Khaki Boys, who were well-nigh exhausted. But if it is true that fear lends strength, so does righteous rage, and the Khaki Boys possessed this in full measure as they thought of not only what the two brothers had done to them personally, but their traitorous conduct toward their country. "Hit, and hit hard!" cried Jimmy, as he sprang at Aleck. "I'm with you!" sang out Roger. Fists crashed to faces, there were body blows, figures leaped back and forth, casting fantastic shadows in the gleam of the lantern. There were cries of rage and grunts of pain. But, once started, the fight never slackened. "We've got to down 'em this time, sure!" panted Wilbur, as Roger sent him back against the cave wall with a staggering blow. "Oh, we'll down 'em!" gasped Aleck, but in his heart he knew the fight was going against him. Once more the four met in the middle of the cave. Jimmy saw his chance when Aleck lowered his guard for an instant, and then the fist of the Khaki Boy went full and fair to the chin of the plotter. For an instant Aleck seemed to stand motionless, and then, with a dazed look on his face, he sank to the floor, murmuring: "I'm out!" And out he was. No counting off of the ten seconds by a referee was necessary. Jimmy had delivered a knockout blow to his antagonist. At first the sergeant thought his enemy might be dissembling, but a glance at the prostrate figure showed that Aleck was not feigning. He was unconscious. "I'll do for you now!" fairly roared Wilbur, as he came back with a rush at Roger. The latter was in a bad way, for he had slipped and had sustained a terrific blow from Wilbur's fist. But the remaining Bixton had not counted on Jimmy, and now Roger's chum could come to his aid. And this Jimmy did. As Wilbur swung past him, to deliver what he hoped would be a finishing blow to Roger, Jimmy put out his foot and tripped the scoundrel.