“But I wasn’t to get away so easily.  A surgeon who had been near me saw me take to my heels, and instead of attending to the wounded as he should have done, he raised an alarm.  Immediately a troop of horsemen dashed after me.  I managed to reach a little woods directly ahead of me in safety and climbed up a tree.  The Germans were unable to find me, so when night came I descended from my perch and continued my journey.

“Soon after daylight I came upon a house, where I asked for food.  I still wore the German surgeon’s uniform, and here this worked to my disadvantage.”

“How was that?” asked Chester.

“It seems that the family were Belgians, and I hadn’t thought of that.  They gave me food and drink all right, but they spilled a little drug of some kind in the drink.  The next thing I knew I was bound and gagged and was looking down the muzzle of a revolver held by a ferocious-looking Belgian peasant.  He informed me my time had come.  I told him I was English, and explained my capture and escape.  He listened patiently, but when I finished he informed me that he wasn’t going to take any chances.  I had just five minutes to live, he said.”

“Great Scott!” cried Hal.  “That was pretty close.  How did you escape?”

“More by good luck than anything else,” was the reply.  “There was some kind of a noise behind the peasant and he turned to investigate.  At that moment I kicked out with my foot and the toe of my boot caught him squarely under the chin.  He went down with a thump.  I don’t know whether I killed him or not.”

“But how did you free your hands?” asked Hal.

“Well, I had quite a little trouble, but I managed to drag my chair over to the fire, and held my hands over the blaze until the cord was burned.”

“And didn’t you burn your hands?”

“A little,” was the quiet response; “but it had to be done.  Then I untied my legs and removed the gag, after which I took to my heels as fast as I could.  I didn’t care for any more Belgian hospitality to one who wore a German uniform.

“In the road I came upon a dead British soldier.  I took his uniform and discarded that of the German surgeon.  I now began to feel that I was reasonably safe, and I lay down at night and slept like a log, in spite of the cold.

“I was awakened a little before daylight by the sounds of approaching footsteps.  I saw the marchers before they saw me, but still not quite quick enough.  They were the same men from whose hands you rescued me only a short while ago.

“I had been confined in that hospital so long that I was still somewhat weak and I couldn’t run fast enough to get away from them.  I tried, but it was no use.  Then I took a couple of shots at them, and got two or three, I think.  I’m not sure, though.  Anyhow, I saw this barn ahead, and dashed into it, figuring that I might possibly hold them off.

“When they set fire to the barn, and I realized I couldn’t get out, I gave up.  I did shoot one through a crack, but a moment later a shot came through and caught me in the side.  That’s the last I remember until I returned to consciousness and learned that you had saved me.”