It was late in the afternoon. The battle had raged all day, and now for
the first time the friends felt the need of food. Instead of taking camp
fare, to which they were invited by the Montenegrin officer who
accompanied them, they decided to go to a little village not far from the
camp, where the officer informed them they could get a substantial meal
at a certain, little restaurant.

Thither they made their way and to their satisfaction found the
information correct. Then, their appetites satisfied, they left the
restaurant and started back to the camp.

It was now after dark and as they walked slowly, discussing events of the
day, they came upon a knot of men engaged in some sort of an argument.

"My curiosity always gets the better of me," said Chester. "Let's have a
look," and he led the way toward the gesticulating group.

It was plain, as they drew nearer, that the argument was heated. Loud
voices broke the stillness of the night, and one of them, a deep bass,
had a familiar ring. One look at the faces in the crowd and they
recognized its owner.

It was none other than Ivan, whom they had last seen when he made his
dash for liberty in the mountains.

Ivan was in the very center of the crowd, and as Hal, Chester and the
others came close, in the glare of a dim light he could be seen
gesticulating violently.