"Oh, I see what you mean. But I'll feel better when we turn and fight, instead of running away from them." "So will I and everyone else, Harry. But the great thing for our side now is to win delay. Every day is as important as a battle. Russia moves slowly, but when she is fully in the field she will have as great an army ready as France and Germany together." "Well, I hope you are right. Ah, now we are out of the town. We can go a little faster. En avant!" In the fields women and young boys were working hard, getting in the harvest that the men had abandoned. Never had a countryside looked more peaceful, except that at every bridge they passed now was a sentry, usually a man of the reserve, held back from the front for this sort of duty, while the younger men were at the front to do the actual fighting. For a long time they were not challenged. The sentries looked at them idly, but decided that they were not at all likely to be Prussian spies, and let them pass. But when they came to the railroad line leading from Amiens to Arras, which they had to cross, it was different. Their crossing was at a culvert, where the road passed under the tracks. Here there was not one sentry, but a post, under the command of a one-legged veteran. To him they were forced to make explanations, which he received gravely, studying Frank with particular attention. "So you carry despatches," he said. "You have a word, a countersign, perhaps?" "Mezieres," said Henri, promptly. "Very well. Pass, then, but keep an eye open. There were Uhlans here before daybreak." "Here?" "They are beginning to show now. We hear they were in Arras yesterday. Some stayed with us. They sought to blow up the culvert here." Then they went on. And just after they had passed the post, they saw what the crippled veteran had meant when he had said that some of the Uhlans had stayed. They lay beside the road, in their greenish gray uniforms. They were the first German soldiers either of the boys had seen. And, in the field, two old peasants were digging a grave. CHAPTER VIII THE HANDS OF A CLOCK The sight was a sobering one. There had been only half a dozen of the Uhlans, and they knew from what they had heard and read that thousands, scores of thousands probably, had already died in the war. But they hadn't seen the others, and these men had lain by the roadside within a few feet of them. For a time neither of the two scouts had much to say. "There's some real war for you, Henri," Frank said, finally. "Don't!" said the French scout with a shudder. "It must be, but it is terrible. And only a few hours ago, I suppose, they were riding along as well as you and I!"