"
The man offered no comment.
"Why did you bend over down there a minute ago?" Harold asked.
No answer was forthcoming.
"Answer my question," ordered Harold curtly.
The man shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. "My shoe lace came
undone," he muttered finally. All the time he was talking he kept
looking behind him and over the route he had just come. He seemed to be
intensely nervous about something.
Harold looked at him up and down from head to foot, as best he could in
the poor light. He appeared undecided as to what he should do.
"You'd better come along with me," he said finally. "I guess the captain
might like to talk to you for a few minutes."
"Where is the captain?" demanded the man.
"That's nothing to you," said Harold. "You do as you're told. You walk on
ahead of me and don't try any funny business; I'll be right behind you
and my gun is loaded."
"Which way?" the prisoner asked.
"That way," directed Harold, indicating the High Ridge end of the bridge
with the point of his bayonet.
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