hat made me see the murderous gleam in the eyes of
those high-spirited Belgians. "Salute the Major!" the Germans
shouted. What seeds of hate those words planted in those Belgian
souls the future will show, when they who sow the wind shall reap
the whirlwind.

That is the unseen horror of war; pictures can reveal the damage
wrought by shot and shell, fire and flood in the blasted cities and in
the fields of the dead. But nothing can ever show the irreparable
spiritual damage wrought to the human soul by hates, humiliations,
fears and undying animosities.

Chapter II

Sweating Under The German Third Degree

By this time my lark-like spirit of the morning had folded its wings.
My musings took on a decidedly somber tinge. "Were the Germans
going to make a summary example of me to warn outsiders to cease
prowling around the war zone?" "Was I going to be railroaded off
to jail, or even worse?" It was no time to be wool gathering! It was
high time for doing. "But what pretexts could they find for such action?"
At any rate I resolved to furnish as few pretexts as possible.

I set to work hunting carefully through my pockets for everything
that might furnish the slightest basis for any charge against me.
Before coming to Brussels I had been warned not to carry
anything that might be the least incriminating, and there was not
much on me; but I did have a pass from the Belgian commander
giving me access to the Antwerp fortifications. I had figured on
framing it as a souvenir of my adventures, but my molars now
reduced it to an unrecognizable pulp. Cards of introduction from
French and English friends fared a similar fate. Their remains were
disposed of in the shuffling that accompanied the arrival of new
prisoners. This had to be done most craftily, for we never knew
where were the spying eyes.

About six o'clock I was resting from my masticatory labors when
Javert presented himself, accompanied by two soldiers. I was led
away into the council room where first I had been taken in the
morning. It was now turned into a trial chamber. Javert, as
prosecutor, was seated on one side of the table, while around the
farther end were ranged some officers and a few men in civilian
clothes who proved to be secret service agents. I stood until the
judge bade me take my seat at the vacant end of the table.

One by one my documents were disposed of--an American
passport issued in London; a permit from the German Consul at
Ma