e, but he, plodding on foot, or in any way he could, would
surely follow. It gave him courage to remember the old fable of the
tortoise and the hare, a fable which doubtless has proved a vain
consolation to many a man, far behind in the race.

"Come to the Inn of the Golden Lion," he said to Scheller, for whom he
had a genuine friendly feeling, "and take a glass of beer with me. I was
wandering about, and it interested me to see the great people go into
the hotel or come out."

"A half-dozen of our famous generals are there," said Scheller, who
seemed to be both well informed now and talkative.

"Some one told me that the great Prince Karl of Auersperg was there,
too," said John at random.

"So he is," replied Scheller, seeing nothing unusual in the question,
"and he has with him under close guard the two French women spies. It's
quite certain that he will carry them into Austria, perhaps to Salzburg
or some place near there."

It was precious information, given casually by a chance acquaintance,
and John believed that it was true. It was in the region of Salzburg
that his great Odyssey had begun, and now it seemed that chance, after
many a curve through the smoke of battle, was taking him back there.

"I'm off duty, Castel, and I'll be glad to go with you," he heard
Scheller saying. "Beer is always welcome and I think you're a good
fellow. It's too bad the blood of your forefathers was French, but it's
had a German stiffening under our rule."

"The German spirit is strong and the Kaiser's armies are mighty," said
John sincerely. "Now we'll hurry to the inn and have our beer."

Scheller was not loath, and before the great fire John toasted his
health in a huge foaming mug, and Scheller toasted back again. Then the
sergeant gave him a grip of his mighty hand and told him good-by.

"I like you, Castel, lad," he said, "and whatever you want I hope you'll
get it."

John, imaginative at all times, but with his nerves keyed to the highest
pitch now, took it as an omen. The kindly Scheller little dreamed what
he sought, but the good wishes of a sergeant might have as much effect
as those of a general or a prince with the Supreme Power.

"Farewell, lad," said Scheller again, and, "Farewell," John responded.

When he was gone John sank back into his chair. He had not been able to
secure for the night more than a bench in the great room, but with his
blankets he could do very well. Besides, there was a certain advant