ves railroaded into Germany, with
one of those terrible dungeons in a Rhine fortress as their destination.

Perhaps even Tubby began to deplore the fact that he chanced to be
wearing a Boy Scout khaki suit, and a campaign hat besides; with the
leggings that scouts in the States have adopted instead of the woolen
stockings used by other branches of the organization abroad.

If pride must have a fall, Tubby began to experience the first twinges
of regret at that moment as he scrambled to his feet, and waited to hear
what Rob or Merritt would say.

"It may be only a false alarm," Merritt suggested. "These poor people
have been seeing imaginary regiments of Uhlans ever since war was
declared."

"But they're making oodles of noise, anyhow!" Tubby protested.

"We can soon find out if it's so," said Rob, hurrying over to one of the
windows, which were partly screened with flimsy curtains, through which
any person from the inside could look out, but which would prevent
scrutiny from the village street, except when the lamps were lighted
later.

They quickly saw that their worst fears were realized. Down the street
at least fifty horsemen were riding. The fact that they carried lances
and wore the customary spiked helmets of the German troopers told Rob as
well as words could have done that at last they were gazing on the
far-famed Uhlans.

They were not at all the fierce-appearing warriors the boys may have
pictured them, having the Russian Cossacks in mind at the time. Indeed,
a number seemed to be laughing heartily, doubtless on account of the
evident terror their presence had apparently inspired in the breasts of
the villagers. And some of them were rosy-cheeked young fellows, who,
shorn of their military accouterments, would have struck the scouts as
good-natured German youths.

Others, however, were more grim and haughty, as though they thought it
their duty to impress these stubborn Belgians with a due sense of their
importance as factors to be dealt with.

It was a thrilling sight to see those hard-riding soldiers of the Kaiser
coming along the village street, with people staring at them from open
doors and windows, yet none daring to utter a word of protest. Fear was
written largely on nearly every face, though doubtless there were also
those who viewed the coming of the hated Uhlans with illy suppressed
rage. Perhaps they had lost some dear one during the battles that had
already been fought around Liege and