Presently the head of the column of blue-greatcoated troops swung blithely along the road to take up positions in the newly-constructed trenches between Fort de Barchon and Fort de Fléron. The men marched well, although covered with dust from head to foot; for during the previous forty-eight hours they had, by forced marches, covered more than eighty miles from Diest to their allotted positions at Liége. Yet, for some unaccountable reason, these troops went into what was soon to be the firing-line in blue tunics with white facings, which would offer a conspicuous target to their foes. It was late in the afternoon when the cart drew up in a large open space by the side of the Church of St. Jacques. The square was crowded with all kinds of military transport and commissariat wagons. Officers were shouting orders, men were rushing hither and thither, motors were popping, horses neighing. The corporal in charge of the wagon descended and stood rigidly at attention. For quite a quarter of an hour he remained in this attitude, without any of the officers approaching to give him further directions. The crowd of wagons became more congested, till Kenneth and Rollo realized that, should they regain possession of their mounts, there would be great difficulty in wheeling them out of the press. Suddenly Kenneth gripped his friend's shoulder and pointed in the direction of a group of officers. "There's Major Résimont!" he exclaimed. "He'll get us out of the fix." "Ah! You have got yourselves in a difficulty again, that I can see," declared the genial Major. "What, then, is the trouble?" Briefly Kenneth described the commandeering of their motor-cycles. "I am indeed most busy," said Major Résimont, and the perspiration on his face did not belie this statement. "Nevertheless, come with me, and we will find the Quartermaster of the Commissariat." He led the lads at a rapid pace through several crowded thoroughfares. At one point the press was so great as to impede their progress. The Liégeois were shouting and cheering, cries of "Vive la Belgique!" and "Vive l'Angleterre!" predominating. Outside a large building a Union Jack and the Belgian tricolour had been hoisted side by side. A telegraphic communication had just been received that Great Britain had declared war on Germany. "Ah! I thought it," chuckled the Major. "Now the Prussians will get the right-about. My friends, the Germans are also now your enemies," and he shook Kenneth and Rollo by the hand. "What will you do? Return to England and join the army?" "We are not old enough for commissions, sir," replied Kenneth; then on the spur of the moment he added: "Couldn't we be attached to the Belgian army as dispatch-riders?" Rollo almost gasped at his chum's impetuosity, but loyalty to his chum and a desire to do something against the oppressor of Europe checked his inclination to counsel caution.