it into their heads to come up herre afterr any of 'em just now. I just
rooted around in the mud and got 'em. Look at my hand, will you?"

They made a sumptuous repast of wet, crisp chicory roots and
"pearrl-bearing mussels" as Archer insisted upon calling them, although
they found no pearls. The meal was refreshing and not half bad. There
was a pleasant air of stealth and cosiness about the whole thing, lying
there in their leafy refuge in the edge of the woods with the Alsatian
country stretched below them. Perhaps it was the mussels out of the
geography (to quote Archer's own phrase) as well as the sense of
security which came as the uneventful hours passed, but as the twilight
gathered they enjoyed a feeling of safety, and their hope ran high. They
had found, as the scout usually finds, that Nature was their friend,
never withholding her bounty from him who seeks and uses his
resourcefulness and brains.

All through the long afternoon they could distinguish heavy army wagons
with dark spots on their canvas sides (the flaring, arrogant German
crest which allied soldiers had grown to despise) moving northward along
the distant road. They looked almost like toy wagons. Sometimes, when
the breeze favored, they could hear the rattle of wheels and
occasionally a human voice was faintly audible. And all the while from
those towering heights beyond came the spent, muffled booming.

"I'd like to know just what's going on over there," Tom said as he gazed
at the blue heights. "Maybe those wagons down there on the road have
something to do with it. If there's a big battle going on they may be
bringing back wounded and prisoners.--Some of our own fellers might be
in 'em."

They tried to determine about where, along that far-flung line, the
sounds arose, but they could only guess at it.

"All I know is what I hearrd 'em say in the prison camp," said Archer;
"that our fellers are just the otherr side of the mountains."

"That would be Nancy," said Tom thoughtfully.

"That Loquet feller that got capturred in a raid," Archer said, "told me
the Americans were all around therre, just the otherr side of the
mountains--in a lot of differrent villages: When they get through
training they send 'em ahead to the trenches. Some of 'em have been in
raids already, he said."

"You have to run like everything in a raid," said Tom. "I'd like to be
in one, wouldn't you?"

"Depends on which way I was running.--Let's have a look at thes