"What regiment?" demanded Lathrop, sharply. "I have to report who took
me; and you probably don't know it, but your collar ornaments are upside
down." With genuine exasperation he turned to Miss Farrar.

"Lord!" he exclaimed, "isn't it bad enough to be taken prisoner, without
being taken by raw recruits that can't put on their uniforms?"

The Reds flushed, and the younger, a sandy-haired, rat-faced youth,
retorted angrily: "Mebbe we ain't strong on uniforms, beau," he snarled,
"but you've got nothing on us yet, that I can see. You look pretty with
your hands in the air, don't you?"

"Shut up," commanded the other Red. He was the older man, heavily built,
with a strong, hard mouth and chin, on which latter sprouted a three
days' iron-gray beard. "Don't you see he's an officer? Officers don't
like being took by two-spot privates."

Lathrop gave a sudden start. "Why," he laughed, incredulously, "don't
you know--" He stopped, and his eyes glanced quickly up and down the
road.

"Don't we know what?" demanded the older Red, suspiciously.

"I forgot," said Lathrop. "I--I must not give information to the
enemy--"

For an instant there was a pause, while the two Reds stood irresolute.
Then the older nodded the other to the side of the road, and in whispers
they consulted eagerly.