"Scrapping about something," remarked Tom carelessly.

The lame man still persisted, and suddenly his companion swung
around and aimed a blow at him with his cane. The other dodged and
the cane was lifted again, but before it could fall, Frank had
reached the man's side and wrenched the cane from his hand.

The owner turned with a glare of fury, which changed however to a
look of apprehension as his eyes fell on the American uniform.

He mumbled something that might have been an apology or an
explanation, but Frank cut him short.

"Hitting a lame man doesn't go around here," said Frank curtly.
"If you had actually hit him, I'd have done the same thing to
you."

The man was cowed and made no reply. The lame man meanwhile had
hobbled away. Frank handed back the cane, turned his back upon the
owner and rejoined his companions.

"True Prussian brutality," commented Bart. "Good work, old boy.
But now let's hurry or we'll be late."

They scattered to their quarters, and in a short time were fully
equipped for the coming journey.

When a little later they had assembled at the place the corporal
had appointed, they found there a group of their comrades selected
from the old Thirty-seventh bent on the same errand as themselves.