We began to wonder why such conquerors should seek so earnestly the friendship of a handful of us Sikhs.
Our wounded began to be drafted back to us well primed, and their stories made us think, but not as the Germans would have had us think.
Week after week until the spring came we listened to their tales by day and talked them over among ourselves at night; and the more they assured us Ranjoor Singh was working with them in Berlin, the more we prayed for opportunity to prove our hearts.

Spring dragged along into summer and there began to be prayers for vengeance on him.

I said less than any.

Understanding had not come to me fully yet, but it seemed to me that if Ranjoor Singh was really playing traitor, then he was going a tedious way about it.

Yet it was equally clear that if I should dare to say one word in his behalf that would be to pass sentence on myself.