it, remarking:

"I will admit that I am poor, and yet it seems a crime to accept
money from an American."

Half an hour later their host returned, bringing two hot omelettes,
dark bread, potatoes and the inevitable pot of coffee.

"It is with difficulty that we keep food hidden," he murmured,
in a low voice. "A dozen times the Huns have appeared and have
taken from us all the food they could find. But we still have
flour, potatoes and coffee hidden where they cannot find them.
We shall hope to continue to exist until you Americans have helped
drive the Hun from our land."

From the nearby road came the sound of moving trucks. The old
man paused and shook his fist in the direction of the sound.
After he had served the breakfast he climbed upon a stool, putting
his eyes to the hole in the sloping roof and peering toward the
road.

"Ah, the vermin!" he hissed. "A regiment of their accursed infantry
marching toward the front. Oh, that your men and ours might kill
them all this day!"

"Give us time, and we'll do it," Tom promised unconcernedly.

After breakfast the two chums talked almost without stopping until
it was time for luncheon. In the afternoon Tom stretched, then
walked toward the bed, declaring:

"When one has no chance to exercise I believe sleep to be the
next best thing, even extra sleep. I believe that I can sleep
until supper time. And after that---perhaps it will be tonight,
Dick, that we make our fantastic effort to place ourselves on
the other side of the German battle front!"

"The sooner the better," cried Dick, "only provided that speed
does not waste our chance to escape."

"If we must go down in defeat," yawned Reade, "I believe we may
at least look for the satisfaction of carrying a few Huns with
us. I believe I have forgotten to mention the fact that I have
my automatic pistol with me. It's hidden, but I could show it
to you."

"I'm glad you have it," murmured Dick, as he closed his eyes.
"I never before felt the desire to slay human beings, but since
I've struck the French front I've had a constant desire to kill
Huns!"

"To-night, then," said Reade drowsily, "we may find the chance
both to kill Huns and get back to the French lines."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DASH TO GET BACK TO PERSHING

"After dark, by a whole hour!" whispered Reade, after waking,
striking a match and looking at his wrist watch. "Hustle, Dick!"

Tom's next act was to light a candle. "Want s