a hero, my lad.'

"'Francois will find the Boches,' was the boy's confident reply.

"Without waiting for the captain to change his mind the lad set out
and was soon out of sight of the village. Reaching the river, he
crept along the bank until he found the bridge he was looking for.
Over this he crawled on hands and knees, and, reaching the other side
of the river, he dodged along until he came to the village where the
Prussians were supposed to be. Francois halted at a farmhouse where he
was known. The farmer's wife was feeding the pigs, and she did not see
him until he said:

"'Where are the Boches?'

"'Francois! What do you here?' she exclaimed.

"'I come to see my grandmother. But I see none of the enemy.'

"'Unhappy child, there are thousands of them over yonder. Do not go
on, I beg of you. You surely will be shot.'

"'I go to see my grandmother. Good day, madame.' Francois plodded on
across the fields in the direction indicated by the farmer's wife.
Suddenly he saw a troop of Prussian cavalry approaching him at a
gallop.

"'Halt!' commanded the captain of the troop when they drew up near the
boy. 'What do you here?'

"'Walking, sir. I go to see my grandmother who is ill.'

"The Prussian laughed. 'Do you not know that the villagers have been
ordered to remain at home and that he who disobeys this order will be
shot?' questioned the commander, sternly.

"'Ah, sir, that is well for the grown men and women, but for children
who go to see their sick grandmothers--'

"'The order is for all. About face! March! You will be shot for your
disobedience.'

"'But I must see my grandmother,' insisted the lad. 'She is ill, I
tell you.'

"Two soldiers swung him about and marched him to their camp. As he
neared the camp he saw many cannon and machine guns, large numbers of
cavalrymen and infantry. He estimated as best he could how many of
them there were. He saw, too, that the cannon were being placed so
their muzzles pointed toward the river. Francois nodded wisely.

"'It is to shoot over to our side of the river,' he said to himself.
'One would not think they could shoot so far as our village. But they
shall find our fine French cannon can shoot farther.'

"His reflections were broken in upon rudely when he was thrust into
what proved to be the guardhouse. In reality he was _thrown_ in by the
two soldiers who had picked him up and sent him sprawling on the
floor. 'What less could one expect from a Boche?' h