"A bit of sheer good luck," said Fuller reminiscently. "That sort of dose isn't often repeated. Tressidar and I broke into a house and collared suits of mufti. That won't do here, though. We were on Danish soil then; now we are in occupied Belgium. Caught and we are shot as spies, while the unfortunate civilians to whom the clothes belong would be strung up for assisting us to escape, whether they did it knowingly or otherwise. Time for more amateur burglar work when we're on Dutch soil. That's my opinion. You see, if we cross the frontier in uniform we'll be interned. I remember----" "Look!" ejaculated the A.P., pointing in the direction of the farmhouse. Making their way across the fields were about a hundred people, men and women, herded together in rough military formation and escorted by grey-coated German infantry. The civilians were on their way to forced labour in the fields. Woe betide the luckless Belgian, male or female, who showed the faintest resentment, or lagged behind. Blows and kicks were administered with impartial severity by the brutal guards, while some did not hesitate to prod the helpless human cattle with the butt-ends of their rifles. "And yet there are worms in England who cry out about the dilution of labour and the encroachment of the rights of the working man," remarked Barcroft. "This is the sort of rights they'd get if the Huns once occupied even a portion of the Homeland." "Poor bounders!" exclaimed the A.P. as he fondled the holster of his revolver. "I'd like to put a shot through that red-faced swine's head." "You'd only make it worse for us and for them," said Fuller. "True," assented Kirkwood, "but a fellow cannot disguise his feelings in such circumstances. One thing seems certain: the Boches haven't got wind of our presence." "Don't know so much about that," said Billy. "Unless I'm much mistaken there's a patrol coming this way--and dogs, too, by Jove!" In less than ten minutes (it had taken the trio an hour to cover the same distance) the patrol gained the field in which the Belgians were literally slaving. Apparently the crowd of workers disturbed the trail, for the bloodhounds, three massive-limbed, heavy-jowled creatures, no longer kept their noses close to the ground and followed the fugitives' track without the slightest deviation. Instead they wandered round in circles, growling rather than baying, and showing every indication of having lost the scent. Followed a heated controversy between the Huns with the dogs and the Germans guarding the field labourers, until the latter, ordering their charges to assemble, marched them into the field next adjoining and nearer to the canal. Four Belgians, however, remained. These, after what was evidently a homily as to their behaviour, followed the patrol with the bloodhounds.