As the train came to a stop a uniformed man dropped from the steps of the rear car, removed his hat and stood at attention. Directly other uniformed figures alighted. These also drew themselves up to attention. Following these there stepped from the car an elderly man, smooth shaven except for a flowing white mustache. Tall he was and erect. His uniform, though plain, nevertheless proved him of high rank and it was apparent to the casual observer that here was the man to whom the others now paid homage. In fact, a glance showed that the man who now stepped from the car was of the highest military rank in France. He was, as his stars and bars proclaimed him, a marshal of France—the commander-in-chief of all the allied armies opposed to the Germans—Marshal Foch. Following him from the car came his retinue of officers—members of his staff, and a few others who had been invited to accompany him to the coming conference with representatives of the German empire. As Marshal Foch left the car, the mayor of the town hurried forward, and welcomed him to the city with a series of deferential bows and words. It is doubtful, so excited was the mayor at the unexpected honor paid his little town, if the man really knew what he said; but his intentions were all of the best, and Marshal Foch accepted them as such—and smiled. "I am very glad to be here, Mr. Taylor," he said quietly, "particularly on such a mission. I know that the people of your little city will be proud to be hosts upon such an historic occasion." "Yes, ye-s-yes, your excellency," stammered the burgess. "Will you kindly see if you can prepare food for my officers and myself?" requested Marshal Foch. "It shall be done immediately, your excellency," said the mayor, and bustled away. Marshal Foch turned to the members of his staff and the others who composed the party. "There is nothing for us to do at the moment, gentlemen," he said, "except to prepare ourselves for the feast. By the way, Colonel," turning to his secretary, "at what hour did I bid General Dupree report to me here?" "Two o’clock this afternoon, sir," was the reply. Marshal Foch glanced at his watch. "And it is not quite noon yet," he said. "Well, we have plenty of time ahead of us." Directly the burgess returned to report that luncheon was served in the depot, and to this Marshal Foch and members of his staff repaired at once. The meal disposed of, it was after 12 o’clock. The next hour the French commander-in-chief spent in animated discussion with members of his staff. Now Hal and Chester, in response to the commands of Marshal Foch, had reported to him at the hour appointed and thus found themselves members of the group that proceeded to Hirson. The heart of each lad beat high, for both were smart enough to know that they were on the eve of historic events. "I’m willing to bet, though," said Hal, "that the Germans will go back on their promises."