hat's settled, the
next thing to decide is how to get to our lines."

"Keep right on going the way Captain Dickerson told us," suggested
Bob.

"That's what I want to consider," Jimmy went on. "Do you all think
that is the wisest course to follow?"

"Why in the world not?" asked Franz, in some amazement. "Didn't
he tell us to go south, and don't we pretty well know that in that
direction would be the most logical place for our troops to be?"

"I grant that," replied Jimmy. "But if our lines are to the south, why
did Captain Dickerson, who appears to be an American officer, go to
the north! Why didn't he come with us?"

"That's starting the whole question over again," declared Bob. "I say
let's take a chance and go south. The captain wouldn't send us wrong
after he went to all that trouble to save us alive."

"Perhaps you're right," admitted Jimmy. "Well, though I'm leader I'm
willing to abide by the majority rule. Since you all want to go to the
south, the south it shall be."

"Don't you think that's the best way?" asked Roger.

"Well, it's as good, perhaps, as any other," was the reply. "I think
we're pretty well surrounded by Germans, and it doesn't really make
much difference which way we go. So the south is as good as any."

"Then lead on!" exclaimed Bob.

"Yes--hike!" added Roger.

And once more they started off.

Their way lay through what had once been a beautiful farming country.
In places, still, there were fields under cultivation--that is, they
had been cultivated up to within a few weeks. But the tide of battle
had swept over the region and the French farmers had either been killed
or had left their homesteads. Still, where the fields had not been torn
up by shell fire, grains were growing, and there were even orchards here
and there.

But, as far as the soldier boys could see, there was no sign of life.
Even the birds seemed to have flown away. There were no chickens, no
dogs, no cattle nor horses--in fact none of the usual farm scenes.
Here and there were farmhouses, some in ruins, others scarcely touched
by the devastating wave of war. But in these latter, which were still
habitable, there were no men or women, and no laughing children. In
fact, throughout France it is probable that there were no laughing
children at this stage of the war. Or if they laughed, it was because
they were too young to appreciate the menace of the Boche invasion.

"We may not be so badly off for food, even if w