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Updated: May 11, 2025
Rabig grunted a surly "Hello" in reply, and was passing on when Billy hailed him. "Sleep well, last night, Rabig?" he asked carelessly. Rabig's face flushed and a frightened look came into his eyes. "Sure I did," he snapped. "Why shouldn't I?" "No reason in the world," replied Billy. "These cool nights are fine for sleeping," remarked Tom.
Andy dropped his head and gazed into the fire. The other even thought he could see what looked like a blush mantle his cheeks, though the chums of the town bully would have shouted at the very idea of such a thing. "I reckon it was some more rotten business, Jerry. To tell the truth I was up to see old Bud Rabig, trying to get him to join us in a raid on your camp.
Rabig and Frank Sheldon were at sword's points most of the time because of the former's bullying disposition, and after Rabig had been caught in the draft and forced into the ranks of the old Thirty-seventh he got from Frank the thorough thrashing which had been for a long time coming to him.
"I'm not going to do it. Perhaps you'll suffer more if I let you live than if I killed you. You're a marked and branded man. You're a man without a country. The very men you've sold yourself to look upon you as a yellow dog. "Now, Rabig, listen to me," Tom went on with deadly earnestness. "I'm going to strip you of the uniform you've disgraced.
Then the officer stood up and with a curt nod went away toward the bottom of the hill. For some minutes more Rabig remained sitting at the foot of the tree. Then he took money from his belt and counted it carefully. Tom couldn't help wondering whether it consisted of thirty pieces of silver! In Tom's mind a plan was rapidly forming. He looked through the trees in every direction.
Well, perhaps you won't shout just so loud when you know me and some of my mates are going up in that region ourselves, to-morrow, to see old Bud Rabig, the trapper, and if we have any trouble with you sissies there's bound to be a high old mix-up, see?" and he glared first at one and then at each of the others in turn.
"It seems so," admitted Frank with reluctance, "and yet he was in his bunk when I went through last night." "How do you know it was Rabig?" Tom retorted. "Are you such a cute detective that you can tell one man's snore from another?" "Who else could it have been?" asked Frank.
"Prisoner escaped," replied the other briefly. "What prisoner?" "The fellow that Rabig was guarding. Some way or other he got out, managed to strike Rabig down and skipped. Poor Rabig's pretty badly messed up." The boys looked at each other. "Poor Rabig," repeated Tom, and there was a world of meaning in his tone.
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