fire, started by the exploding shell, ate its way into the dry timber
of the old mill, and menaced the five imprisoned Brothers.

"Who is he?" murmured Bob.

"And where did he come from!" inquired Roger.

"Is he an American or German?" was the question Jimmy asked, and he
peered out through a space between two big beams that had fallen and
crossed when the mill collapsed.

"He isn't a German--that's sure," declared Franz. "No German would be
so decent as to rescue five imprisoned Americans. He'd let us roast to
death first."

"Maybe he knows not dat we American be," suggested the Polish lad.

"Well, he wouldn't have to be much of a guesser to tell that we
weren't Germans, after he heard us talk," said Jimmy. "We might be
of either nationality, as far as our being here is concerned. But no
matter what he thinks we are, he seems to be willing to help. What's
he looking for, I wonder?"

The strange rescuer appeared to be looking about in front of the mill
for some object. His eyes eagerly sought the ground, and he hurried to
and fro, seeming to realize the need of haste.

"I'll be there in just a moment, boys!" he called. "I'm looking for
something to use in prying apart those beams. They're pretty heavy,
and I've got to work all alone. I'll get you out in time!"