nd the young German soon established a common
ground of conversation, because to Fritz Munich was the greatest and
finest of all cities.

That was one of the pleasantest mornings he experienced on his long and
solitary quest. His heavy clothing kept him warm, his seat was
comfortable, the pace was good and Fritz was excellent company. Fritz
was a simple peasant, though, in his belief that Germany was right in
everything and omnipotent, that the other nations through jealousy had
conspired to destroy her, but she, instead, would destroy them all, and
rule a conquered world.

John saw readily that the poison had been instilled into him from his
birth by the men higher up, and he blamed Fritz very little for his
misguided beliefs. Besides, it was pleasant to have the company of one
somewhat near his own age, and to listen to human talk. There was a
girl, Minna, in the village near Munich whom Fritz was going to marry as
soon as the war was over.

"And that won't be long now," said Fritz. "It's true that we were halted
before Paris last year, but we came again more numerous and more
powerful than ever. The Kaiser will make a finish of it all in the
spring, and I shall marry Minna. We shall go into Munich, see the
beautiful city, and then go back to our home in the village."

"A fine place, Munich," said John. "In my dealing in horses I've been
there more than once. Do you remember the Wittelsbach Fountain in the
Maximilienplatz?"

"Aye, and a cooling sight it is on a warm day."

"And the green Isar flowing through the Englischer Gardens!"

"And the ducks swimming down to the edge of the little falls, swimming
so close that you think they're going over and then swimming away
again."

"Yes, I've seen them, and once I went into the gallery and saw the
strange pictures they called Futurist, which I think represent the bad
dreams of painters who have gone to bed drunk."

"You're a man of sense, you Castel, even if you do have a French name. I
went in there myself once, and then I hurried away to the Hofbrau and
drank all the beer I could that I might forget it."

John laughed, and Fritz laughed with him.

"How far do you go?" asked John.

"Only to Stuttgart. I wish it was Munich. Then I might see Minna again
before returning to the war."

But they had a placid journey to Stuttgart, sleeping by the way in the
wagon. Arriving in the city John paid Fritz for his ride and parted from
him with regret. He spent a nigh