But beyond being twice stopped by Belgian patrols and made to produce his military pass, Kenneth reached his destination without being molested. He delivered his message, receiving a reply that a machine-gun detachment would be sent off as quickly as possible, and set off on his return journey. Perhaps the fact that he had but recently passed along the same road without difficulty made him slightly reckless. He increased his speed till the motor-cycle was travelling at nearly forty miles an hour. Soon he came to a straight, narrow road lined with gaunt trees--one of the avenues that are a common feature in the eastern part of Belgium. Suddenly he gave a gasp of surprise. A horseman had just appeared at the farthermost end of the avenue. At first the lad took him to be one of the Belgian lancers, whose similarity to the German Uhlans was somewhat pronounced, but a rapidly nearing view assured him that the man was one of the enemy. Another Uhlan joined the first. They both lowered their lances and waited. Kenneth slipped out his clutch and applied both brakes. The motor-cycle came quickly to a stop, the engine running furiously, while the open "cut-out" emitted a rapid succession of sharp reports like the detonations of a Maxim-gun. There was yet time to turn his cycle, remount, and escape by the way he had come, he reasoned; but, even as he was in the act of facing about, he made the additionally disconcerting discovery that his retreat was cut off. Five or six Uhlans had evidently been in ambush, and, having allowed the solitary dispatch-rider to pass them, were waiting to assist in his capture. The ditch and the trees formed an impassable barrier for the heavy motor-cycle; while without it flight was almost out of the question, when it was the case of a man on foot pursued by the fleet Uhlan horses. For one brief instant the thought of surrendering tamely flashed through the lad's mind. He bore no written dispatch; his capture would result in no important information being gained by the enemy. It seemed the easiest solution to the problem. "I'm dashed if I do," ejaculated Kenneth, banishing the temptation almost as soon as it suggested itself. "Here goes; it's neck or nothing." He was back in the saddle in double-quick time. With the clutch in and the engine barking furiously he tore towards the two Uhlans, who were sitting on their horses at a distance of about fifty yards from each other. Kenneth drew his revolver. With his right hand thus occupied, throttle and air lever had to take care of themselves. At thirty miles an hour he tore towards the nearmost of his antagonists. The Uhlan lowered his lance-point. He was trembling to such an extent that the glittering point was describing erratic curves in the sunlight. His resolution had vanished at the sight of the rapidly-approaching motor-cycle. His horse began to rear, alarmed by the loud and rapid pulsations of the engine.