uptly, and the car ran along on an even keel. Covered with bumps and
bruises from head to toe, the two boys scrambled up off the floor of
the car and flopped down on the seat. The Belgian Sergeant pushed on the
brake and brought the car to a halt under the shelter of over-hanging
tree branches. He switched the engine off and turned around and smiled
at them triumphantly.

"We have lost the Boches!" he announced. "Everything is all right, now.
When it gets dark we will continue. You, my little lucky charm, I must
thank you for putting sense in my head."

"That's quite, all right," Freddy said and fingered a lump behind his
right ear. "That was a fine bit of driving, Sergeant, even though you
came close to breaking our necks. Next time, though, please let us know
in time."

"You said it!" Dave gasped and nursed a barked shin. "And when you do,
I'm going to jump out. Boy, talk about your wild rides!"

The Belgian Sergeant laughed and gestured with his big hands.

"But that was nothing!" he protested, "These little cars, they can go up
the side of a cliff. That German thing? Bah! It creeps along like a
snail. You should have been with me and the Lieutenant yesterday. Ah,
that was a ride! For a whole hour, mind you. And they were shooting at
us from all sides. But we got through without a scratch. It was
wonderful. You should have been there!"

"I think I'm glad I wasn't," Freddy said, and smiled so the Belgian
would not feel hurt. "But what, now? Where are we?"

Before he would reply the Belgian stuck a dirty cigarette between his
lips and lighted up.

"We wait for the darkness, and that will not be long," he finally said.
Then pointing across the field to the left, he continued, "One mile in
that direction and we strike a road that will lead us straight into the
Wavre-Namur road. Two hours at the most and we shall be there."

"Unless the Germans have cut it, too," Freddy murmured.

The Belgian looked at him and snorted.

"Impossible!" he said in a decisive voice. "They cannot have advanced
that far. Don't worry, _mes enfants_, I will get you to Namur in no time
at all. I ... _Sacre!_ Those are German tank guns!"

The pounding of guns had suddenly broken out from behind them and to the
left. Not the deep booming sound of long range pieces, but the sharp
bark of small caliber guns. The sergeant pinched out his cigarette and
stuck it in his pocket and slid out of the car. He stood motionless for
a moment, head c