“Then whoop it up for keeps!” Jack told him, immediately setting a good example by increasing his own pace. There were houses ahead. The drops began to come down faster, and it seemed to be an open question as to whether Jack and his cousin would reach shelter fairly dry or not until the rain had drenched them. Almost winded with their exertions, they presently arrived in the midst of the cottages, which like nearly all others in Belgium of that day showed positive signs of having been under artillery fire. CHAPTER XVII. SHELTER FROM THE STORM. “We’re going to make the push, Jack!” gasped Amos, as they found themselves in close touch with the cottages. “Yes, and I only hope we’ll find a friendly roof to shelter us,” added his chum. The clouds hung heavy above them. One would almost imagine the day was far spent, and night about to close the curtains of darkness around them. Again did they feel drops of rain starting to fall, and this time it threatened to continue. Looking around, Jack picked out a certain house as the most promising of all those near by. He never could exactly explain just why he selected that particular cottage, except that it was possibly a bit closer than any other, and the rain began to fall more and more heavily. Hurrying under the shelter of the little porch that lay before the door, the boys found that they could immediately escape the increasing downpour. At the same time, as this was no mere summer shower, Jack did not intend to stay on the outside. So he proceeded to knock with his knuckles on the closed door. There was no immediate reply, at which Amos suggested that possibly the cottage might be without a tenant. “If you looked a little closer,” his comrade told him, “you’d never say that, for there is smoke coming from the top of the chimney. Besides, I saw a face at the window staring at us when we rushed under this little canopy that shields the door.” “You don’t say!” ejaculated Amos. “It was the face of an old woman, and white with fear I thought,” continued Jack, seriously. “Still, that shouldn’t surprise us, because in these terrible war-times all sorts of frightful things are constantly happening to make timid people shiver with dread.” “But, Jack, surely two boys oughtn’t to make anybody afraid?” expostulated Amos. “Sometimes the most innocent-looking things are the most dangerous,” his chum told him. “These poor Belgians must be seeing German secret agents everywhere about them. We have been suspected before now, and seen in this strange light even you might appear a regular ogre in her eyes.” “But, my stars! Jack, are we going to stay out in the rain right along just because some silly person might think all strangers are German spies? Don’t you intend to knock again?” For answer Jack once again brought his knuckles against the door with more vim than before. It might even be considered a knock of authority, for there is such a thing.