"Ready?" asked Kenneth in muffled tones. Receiving an affirmative reply from his companion, he slipped in the clutch and away the cycle glided. "Here's trouble!" the lad thought before many yards of road had been traversed, for ahead was a rapidly-nearing cloud of dust that evidently betokened the approach of cavalry or horse artillery. "Troops of sorts coming," he informed his companion. "Thanks, quite comfortable," was Rollo's inconsequential reply; for the handkerchief round Kenneth's mouth, the noise of the engine, and the rush of air as the motor-cycle tore along prevented the passenger from hearing the information given, while Rollo was unable to look ahead. "Germans in sight!" yelled Kenneth. This time Rollo understood. Resisting the temptation to look over his companion's shoulder, he drooped his head, as becoming the rôle of a badly-wounded man. The on-coming troops turned out to be neither cavalry nor artillery, but a motor section, including a machine-gun mounted on an armoured side-car. Fortunately the pace as Rollo and Kenneth tore past was such that recognition or detection was out of the question. "Here we are," announced Rollo a few seconds later. Kenneth quickly pulled up. As he did so he gave a hurried look around. There were no signs of more Germans, while the motor-cyclist detachment was almost out of sight. The plank across the ditch was about nine inches wide. In places it was worn to such an extent that there were holes in the wood. Kenneth eyed it with obvious distrust, yet it seemed the only likely means of gaining the open country beyond, across which a footpath promised fairly easy going. "I didn't know that it was so rotten as that," said Rollo apologetically. "I don't know whether it will bear the weight of the bike." "We'll risk it anyhow," declared Kenneth. "Can you put your foot to the ground without much pain? You can? Good! Steady the jigger a second." Unhesitatingly Kenneth jumped into the ditch. He sank above his ankles in mud, with the water up to his thighs, yet he was able to keep the motor-cycle in an upright position while Rollo, steadying himself by means of the saddle, pushed it along the creaking plank. "That looks bad," commented Kenneth, pointing to a small object lying on the ground. It was a brass button from the tunic of a Prussian soldier. Some of the enemy had passed that way, and were consequently between the lads and the Belgian lines. "We may find a gap," declared Rollo, for by this time he was whole-heartedly devoted to the carrying out of his comrade's plans. "If it comes to the pinch we will have to abandon the bike." "Steady, old man!" said Kenneth in mock reproof. "Because you lost your motor-cycle there is no reason why you should suggest my doing likewise. Now, jump up."