a distance can look down on us."

"You Yankees are sometimes right, Wharton, and this is one of the times.
Those fellows, whoever they are, will probably get a few more shots at
us. I'll lay you two to one they don't hit us."

"I never bet against my sympathies. Ping! didn't you hear it! There was
a bullet, five seconds after you offered to bet."

"Yes, I know it. Here's the lock of hair it cut from my head."

He took the hair from his coat, where it had fallen, and let it flutter
away. He did not show any alarm. Already it had become the pride of the
three never to betray apprehension. John's face was like a mask,
although his heart was beating hard. A whistle over his head showed that
a bullet had passed there and he heard its plunk as it buried itself in
a tree on the other side of the road.

He remembered with some consolation that the modern, small, high-powered
rifle bullet, unless it killed, did not do so very much harm. It went
through one so fast that it did not tear flesh or break bones, and the
wounds it made were quick to heal.

Ping! Ping! and once more ping! They reached the crest of the hill and
went swiftly down the other slope.

"I think we'll leave them behind here," said Carstairs. "We gain, as
we've the open road, while they're obstructed in fields."

"I hope you're a true prophet, Carstairs," said Wharton. "I'm growing
reconciled to an army shooting at me, but I would hate to be picked off
by an ambushed sharpshooter."

Carstairs was a true prophet in this case. No more shots came and as
they entered flat country with open fields, in which they could see
everything they slowed to a walk, and not too soon, for the horses were
breathing heavily, their mouths covered with foam. Then in order to
spare their tired animals the three dismounted and walked a mile,
leading them by the bridles.

"I'd never have thought the Uhlans were in the rear of our army," said
Carstairs.

"I'm not at all surprised," said John.

"Why not?"

"Because I shall never be surprised at anything the Germans do. You
English have fallen into the bad habit of thinking that what you haven't
done nobody else does."

"I see," said Carstairs with a laugh. "Hit the poor old Britisher. You
Yankees are so used to it that you can't get out of the habit, even here
and now, when you and I are allies."

"But it's the truth, the real vital truth," said John earnestly. "The
Germans are ahead of you. They're like a medieval kni