t in very truth they had made a precious
capture. They contained neither address nor signature, but they notified
the commander of the extreme German right wing that a British force
would shortly appear near the Belgian border, on the extreme allied
left, that it would be a small army, and that it could be crushed by a
rapid, enveloping movement.

"The prince or duke whom you hit over the head, John," said Wharton,
"was carrying this. He did not put it in his pocket, because he never
dreamed of such a thing as the one that happened to him. But one thing
is sure: our obligation to reach the allied force in the west is doubled
and tripled. We three, obscure as we may be, may carry with us the fate
of an army."

"He called us two madmen," said John, nudging Carstairs. "Now look at
our good sober Wharton going mad with responsibility."

Wharton did not notice them. He was turning over and over the sheets of
tissue paper, and his eyes glowed. His hands trembled, too, as he
handled the precious document, but he did not let a single page fall.

"Glorious! splendid! magnificent!" he exclaimed. "By our capture, by our
own courage and skill, and by ours alone we'll save the allied left wing
from destruction."

The timeliness of their exploit, the wonderful chance had gone to
Wharton's head. He forgot for the time his comrades, the motor, and the
morning sun over the fields and the forest. He thought only of their
arrival in the allied camp with those precious documents.

John and Carstairs exchanged glances again. They had come quite back to
earth, but there could be no doubt that Wharton was taking an ascension.

"We'll treat him kindly," said Carstairs.

"Of course," said John. "Old friend of ours, you know. Been with us
through the wars. But I want to tell you, Carstairs, and I hope I won't
hurt your feelings, you being a monarchist, that I'm glad I hit that
prince such a solid smash over the head. It will always be a pleasure to
me to remember that I knocked out a royalty, and I hope he wasn't any
mediatized prince either."

"Don't apologize to me. He was only a German prince, and they're so
numerous they don't count British princes are the real thing."

"Stop talking foolishness you two!" exclaimed Wharton. "You ramble on,
and we carry the fate of Europe in our hands! My God, we've wasted a
quarter of an hour here talking! Carstairs, get back in the driver's
seat, and I don't care how fast you drive! Scott, take y