unger lad. "Last night I dreamed of eating
salt mackerel and my dream book says that means trouble!"

"Here they come now!" cautioned Ned. "Hush a minute, boys!"

Addressing the boys in German the soldier was evidently asking some
question which demanded an answer. Ned as spokesman shook his head. The
other soldier spoke rapidly in the French language.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Ned said, lifting a protesting hand, "we cannot
understand the language you are using. We speak only English!"

"Ah, ha! Anglaise!" cried the soldier, gesticulating.

"There, you put your foot in it!" declared Jimmie. "Why didn't you say:
'Come across with some good old United States, Bo'?"

"They probably don't understand your slang, Jimmie!" replied Ned.

"So-o-o," exclaimed one of the men in poor English, "you speak English,
do you? And from what part of England do you come?"

"We are not from England at all," explained Ned, "but from the United
States. We are being sent home by the kindness of a German officer, who
has been most considerate. See, here are our passports!"

"Bah!" scornfully protested the man. "Passports are most easily forged.
And information may be carried still more easily!"

"But I assure you," continued Ned, "we are speaking the truth!"

"So say all spies!" replied the other. "We shall see for ourselves just
what information you have in your possessions!"

"Go as far as you like," replied Ned, somewhat nettled at the soldier's
insolence. "You won't find a thing that shouldn't be there!"

One of the men was already bending over the bags containing such articles
as the boys had deemed necessary for their trip. Without regard for the
owners' rights he was rapidly taking out every piece separately. After
carefully examining it he threw the article on the ground. He was
evidently annoyed at not finding something incriminating.

Submitting to the search with poorly concealed dislike of the man and his
methods, the boys waited with what patience they could muster until the
ordeal should be ended. Ned endeavored to distract their thoughts by
commenting on the others, who were meeting similar treatment.

He was interrupted by an exclamation of delight from the searcher.

"Ah!" cried that worthy, standing upright. "Nothing contraband! Nothing
to be concealed! No information! These are not spies!"

He held in his hand a flat packet wrapped in heavy oiled silk, tied with
many wrappings of stout twine and sealed careful