ll about. Officers, as soon as they were seen, were hailed by the
drivers of taxicabs, who refused even to think of carrying a civilian
passenger if an officer wanted to get anywhere, or, if there were no
officers, a private soldier. The streets were crowded, however, and with
men. Here there were thousands, of course, not required to report at
once.

"When mobilization is ordered," explained Henri, "each man in France has
a certain day on which he is to report at his depot. It may be the first
day, the third, the fifth, the tenth. If all came at once it would mean
too much confusion. As it is, everything is done quickly and in order."

"It doesn't look it," was Frank's comment.

"No," said his chum, with a laugh. "That's true. But it's so, just the
same. Every man you see knows just when he is to go, and when the time
comes, off he will go. Why, even in your America, now, all the Frenchmen
who have gone there are trying to get back. I know. They will be here as
soon as the ships can bring them. They will report to the consul
first--he will tell them what to do."

They made slow progress through the crowded streets. Already, however,
there was a difference in the sort of crowding. There were fewer
taxicabs, very many fewer. And there were no motor omnibuses at all.

"What has become of them?" asked Frank. "Aren't there men enough to run
them?"

"Yes, and they are running them," said Henri, dryly. "But not in Paris.
They are on their way to the border, perhaps. Wherever they are, they
are carrying soldiers or supplies. The government has always the right
to take them all. Even at the time of the manoeuvres, some are taken,
though not all. It is the same with the automobiles. In a few days there
will be none left--the army will have them all. Officers need them to
get around quickly. Generals cannot ride now--it is too slow to use a
horse. You have heard of Leon Bollet?"

"No. Who is he?"

"He is a famous automobile driver in races. He has won the Grand Prix.
He will drive a general. He is a soldier, like all Frenchmen, and that
will be his task--to drive some great general wherever he wants to go."

That was how the meaning of mobilization really came home to Frank, who
learned more from the things he missed that he was accustomed to seeing
than from new sights. In the boulevards, for instance, where as a rule
the little tables in front of the cafes would be crowded, all the tables
had vanished. That was a resu