He wanted to know what that work was and I told him it
was killing Germans. This made him angry, and--"
"I don't wonder," said Hal dryly.
"It's a wonder he didn't administer a dose of poison right then,"
said Chester.
"Yes," continued the captain, "it made him mad, and he informed me that I
might as well die, because if I didn't I would be shot anyhow."
"Shot!" ejaculated Chester. "What for?"
"That's what I asked him. He replied that I had been declared a spy, and
that I was to be put to death as soon as I was well enough to face a
firing squad. He said they didn't want to do it while I was so ill."
"Very considerate of them," commented Hal.
"Just what I told the surgeon. Well, naturally, with this sentence
hanging over my head I didn't get well any quicker than I had to. Every
day I could feel myself getting better, but I pretended to get worse. I
contracted all the ailments you ever heard of, and I was a sore puzzle to
the surgeon. He had several others look me over, but they couldn't agree
on what was the matter with me, although they did agree I was a very sick
man and had only a few days to linger on this earth.
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