Suddenly their captors halted. They had reached a wider part of the trench, and in the dim light from a small electric bulb, which indicated this place to be one of the more permanent German positions, the three Brothers saw a concrete dugout. The door of this was kicked open, and after the three Khaki Boys had been hurriedly searched, and all their personal belongings taken from them, they were thrust inside in the darkness and the door was closed. And then, clinging together in their pain and woeful state, they told each other what had happened--Roger and Bob relating how they had been cut off and captured, and Jimmy telling of his leading the rescue party, only to be betrayed into going in the wrong direction, deceived by the call of some Hun whose English was good enough to do the trick. "And now we're here," sighed Bob. "What's to become of us?" "I think they'll take us before some officer and question us," said Jimmy. "They'll wait until morning, though, to give us a longer taste of misery." "Morning!" gasped Roger. "Will morning ever come to a hole like this?" and his eyes tried to pierce the blackness. "There may be a window to it, or some way of letting light in, unless it's away down underground," Jimmy went on. "I couldn't tell what it was from the outside." "Me, either," admitted Bob. "Well, this sure is tough luck!" "Don't be downhearted!" advised Roger. "Our boys may attack in a few hours and rescue us." "Yes, they may," assented Jimmy, and this cheered them up for a time. How long the hours seemed! Would morning ever come, and would they see a gleam of light when it did? Or would they still be in blackness? This question was answered for them some time later, when, after being sunk in painful silence, they were aroused by a faint gleam coming in through what proved to be a small opening in the roof of the dugout. It was a little gleam of sunshine, and it cheered the boys almost as much as if it had been news from home. "We're not in an underground dungeon, anyhow," said Jimmy. The light grew stronger, and presently the door of their prison was opened. "I hope it's breakfast," gasped Bob. "Even if it's only a glass of water." But it was not even that. Several burly, brutal Germans leered in the faces of the boys, and one, who spoke fairly good English, ordered them to come out. "Where are you taking us?" demanded Jimmy. "You'll see," was the enigmatical answer. They did not have long to wait, for, presently, they were taken before a German officer, whose rank they were unable to determine, though he seemed to wield considerable authority. He was seated at a table in a dugout most comfortably fitted up. Before him was a mass of papers, and at his side stood a bottle of wine from which he poured a glass now and then, as he puffed at a pipe. There were several others in the room, some officers and others, clerks or secretaries.