“Only the division commander could sanction that,” replied Captain Ribaut, with grave sympathy.  “And it is never done, Captain.”

“Oh, I wish I had B company at my back, with A company thrown in for good measure!” quivered Greg.  “But say, can’t there be a mistake?  Didn’t Prescott go back wounded?”

“No; I have sent to the dressing station, and he was not seen there,” Captain Ribaut replied.

At first Greg couldn’t believe that his chum had been captured.  When the probability of it did dawn on him nothing but his position as an officer kept him from sitting down on the fire step and sobbing.

“I’d sooner know he was killed than that he had fallen into Hun hands,” Holmes sputtered.  “But, if they have got him, then I’ll make a business of mistreating Germans after this!”

Capture was precisely what had happened to Dick Prescott.  It was not for long that he had remained dazed.  Two German soldiers fairly dragged him across No Man’s Land, his heels bumping over the rough ground.

Dick vaguely knew when the same men lifted him slightly and dropped him, feet first, into the German trench.  He fell forward to his knees, and a German non-com raised him to his feet.

“What place is this?” Dick demanded.  But he knew as soon as he heard laughing German voices around him.

“Well, if I’m captured, I gave a good account of myself first,” Prescott muttered as he shook himself together, “I first captured two German spies and a German colonel and turned them over to the French.  But poor old Greg!  I’d almost sooner be in my present boots than in his, for he’ll be frantic when he finds this out.”

The same two German soldiers who had dragged him across No Man’s Land were now permitted the honor of piloting their distinguished captive back from the line.  Leading him into a communication trench, they started with him for the rear.

Though he still felt dizzy, Dick found his head clearing as he moved along.  He was able to judge that he had walked half a mile through the communication trench, then at least another half-mile along a road before he was halted at a hole in the ground.

“Go down here,” said one of the men in German, and pushed Dick down a long flight of steps, leading to a large, electrically lighted dug-out at least twenty-five feet below the earth’s surface.

“Only prisoners of rank received here, without orders,” said a sergeant near the foot of the stairs.

“But this man is a captain,” returned one of the captors.

“Of what army?”

“The American.”

“Bring the prisoner here!” ordered a voice from the further end of the underground room.

Dick was hustled along, bringing up at last in front of a long table, behind which sat three German officers.

“You are an American?” asked the officer who sat between the other two.  He spoke in English.