-that is, every correspondent thought it to be the
OTHER man's hope. Secretly each had prepared to outwit the other, and
secretly Davis had already sent his story to Ostend. He meant to
emulate Archibald Forbes, who despatched a courier with his real
manuscript, and next day publicly dropped a bulky package in the
mail-bag. Davis had sensed the news in the occupation of Brussels long
before it happened. With dawn he went out to the Louvain road, where
the German army stood, prepared to smash the capital if negotiations
failed. His observant eye took in all the details. Before noon he had
written a comprehensive sketch of the occupation, and when word was
received that it was under way, he trusted his copy to an old Flemish
woman, who spoke not a word of English, and saw her safely on board the
train that pulled out under Belgian auspices for Ostend."

With passes which the German commandant in Brussels gave us the
correspondents immediately started out to see how far those passes
would carry us. A number of us left on the afternoon of August 23 for
Waterloo, where it was expected that the great clash between the German
and the Anglo-French forces would occur. We had planned to be back the
same evening, and went prepared only for an afternoon's drive in a
couple of hired street carriages. It was seven weeks before we again
saw Brussels. On the following day (August 24) Davis started for Mons.
He wore the khaki uniform which he had worn in many campaigns. Across
his breast was a narrow bar of silk ribbon indicating the campaigns in
which he had served as a correspondent. He so much resembled a British
officer that he was arrested as a British derelict and was informed
that he would be shot at once.

He escaped only by offering to walk to Brand Whitlock, in Brussels,
reporting to each officer he met on the way. His plan was approved,
and as a hostage on parole he appeared before the American minister,
who quickly established his identity as an American of good standing,
to the satisfaction of the Germans.

In the following few months our trails were widely separated. I read
of his arrest by German officers on the road to Mons; later I read the
story of his departure from Brussels by train to Holland--a trip which
carried him through Louvain while the town still was burning; and still
later I read that he was with the few lucky men who were in Rheims
during one of the early bombardments that damaged the cath