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.
"Yes," Dick admitted.
"Of what regiment ?" demanded the questioner.
"Infantry regiment," Dick replied.
"Yes, but how is your regiment known ?" "As an infantry regiment," Dick answered, though he knew well what was wanted of him.
"Are your American regiments numbered ?" "Oh, yes." "How is yours numbered ?" "Numbered among the best, I believe," Dick returned, with a smile.
"You are a captain ?" "Yes." "Then you know what I mean to ask, and you must not try to trifle with me.