"The officer laughed harshly.

"'Lock him up. He is a fraud, and we shall yet find him to be such.
The French resort to many tricks.'

"Henri was placed in charge of a soldier, by whose side he trudged
along, wiping his eyes frequently, apparently in great distress of
mind, as a boy naturally would be in his situation. Henri's eyes were
red, but they were red from rubbing rather than from the tears they
had shed, and were keenly on the alert; they missed nothing of what
was going on about them. He did not know where they proposed to take
him, but wherever it was he determined not to go, for the letter in
his stomach was a constant reminder of what was expected of him.

"There was much activity about them; it was a busy scene, and Henri's
guard was plainly interested in it--he was becoming more interested in
the activity than he was in his prisoner, which fact did not escape
the lad, who appeared to be so filled with despair.

"Soldier and prisoner finally came to the bank of a canal, along which
they walked, the soldier still watching the movements of the troops.
Now Henri saw his opportunity.

"All at once he sprang away from his guard, and, taking a long leap,
plunged head first into the canal. He dove deep and shot himself half
way across before coming to the surface.

"The soldier guard stood stupefied for a moment. Recovering his wits,
he began to shoot at the bobbing head of Henri that was now out of the
water then under it.

"Henri, by this time, was rapidly nearing the opposite bank of the
canal, taking little heed of the bullets that were splashing all about
him.

"'It is good luck to be little,' he chuckled as he scrambled up the
bank and dashed into the bushes. Bullets were singing all about him
now, showing that several soldiers had joined in the shooting, but the
plucky boy was not hit, though there were bullet holes in his jacket
and two through his cap.

"'Good bye, Mr. Boche,' he called back. 'Henri thanks you that you did
not hit him in the place where he carries his orders.' He then ran
swiftly over the remaining few miles that lay between him and his
destination. Reaching the French lines safely, he was led to the
commander of the detachment in his home village.

"'I have orders for you, sir,' he said, saluting the commander.

"'Very good. Where are they?'

"'In my stomach, sir.'

"The officer was puzzled for the moment, then he began to laugh. Henri
related the circumstances that h