ge of
Alsace where the Rhine, flowing in a northeasterly direction, separates
the "lost province" from the Duchy of Baden. To the south, on the Baden
side, the mighty hills rolled away in crowding confusion as far as they
could see, and these they knew held that dim, romantic wilderness, the
Black Forest, the outskirts of which they had entered.

Directly below the hill on which they rested was a tiny hamlet nestling
in the shadow of the steep ascent, and when Tom climbed a tree for a
better view he could see to the southwest close by the river a surging
metropolis with countless chimneys sending their black smoke up into the
gray early morning sky.

"I bet it's Berrlin," shouted Archer. "Gee, we'll be the firrst to get
therre, hey? It might be Berrlin, hey?" he added with less buoyancy,
seeing Tom's dry smile.

"It might be New York or Philadelphia," said Tom, "only it ain't. I
guess it must be Strassbourg. I heard that was the biggest place in
Alsace."

They looked at it through their field glass and decided that it was
about twenty miles distant. More to the purpose was the little hamlet
scarce half a mile below them, for their provisions were gone and as Tom
scanned the country with the glass he could see no streams to the
southward converging toward the river. He feared to have to go another
twenty-four hours, perhaps, without food and water.

"We got to decide another thing before we go any farther, too," he said.
"If we're going to hike into those mountains we've got to cross the
river and we'll be outside of Alsace. We won't meet any French people
and Frenchy's button won't do us any good over there. But if we stay on
this side we've got to go through open country. I don't know which is
better."

They were indeed at a point where they must choose between the doubtful
hospitality of Alsace and the safe enveloping welcome of the mountain
fastnesses. Like the true scout he was, Tom inclined to the latter.

"Do you notice," he said, looking down through the glass, "that house
that looks as if it was whitewashed? It's far away from the others."

Archer took the glass and looking down saw a little white house with a
heavy roof of thatch. A tipsy, ramshackle fence surrounded it and in the
enclosure several sheep were grazing. The whole poor farm, if such it
was, was at the end of a long rustic overgrown lane and quite a distance
from the cluster of houses which constituted the hamlet. By scrambling
down the r