win—everyone believes that. But we shall suffer greatly first. I have talked with General Broche—you know him, Henri. He is too old and weak to fight now, but he was active in 1870. And he says—he says that the government may move soon, away from Paris!"

"Then they think—!" cried Henri, almost overcome.

"They do not know—no one knows. But if there is to be another siege, it is better that the government should be where the Germans cannot bottle it up. I shall stay here, but I shall be safe. There are plenty to do what I need. Go to Amiens, Henri. Your place is near your mother. If there seems to be danger, beg her to come here, or even to go to her friends, the Douays, in Nice. There at least all will be safe."

Henri did not argue with his aunt. It was hard for him to realize the truth, as it was for Frenchmen older than himself. But he admitted it to Frank and even to himself, that night. And so the next morning they started for Amiens. An officer, returning to the front after bringing despatches to Paris, agreed to see that they reached the northern city safely. Without him, indeed, they would have found it difficult, if not impossible, to get aboard a train, for while other railways were open those that led to the front were entirely in the hands of the military authorities.

But thanks to the friendly officer, a friend of the Martin family in Paris, they reached Amiens quickly enough. On the way, more than once they passed long trains carrying wounded, and, several times, other trains on which were packed German prisoners. These, under close guard, looked out sullenly from the windows. The sight delighted Henri.

"That doesn't look much as if we were losing, does it?" he cried happily.

Amiens itself was a smaller Paris. In times of peace, Amiens is, like many other French cities, a curious place, owing to the contrast between its character as a busy, bustling, manufacturing town, and its other character as a place where there are many renowned examples of ancient art. But now it was quiet save for the ever present soldier. Troops were passing through the streets; in the station several hundred were entraining.

"Do soldiers go from here, too?" asked Frank.

"Yes. Amiens is the headquarters of the second army corps," explained Harry. "All the reservists of that corps report here, no matter where they live. When a regiment loses a lot of men, if it is in the second corps, new men from here go forward to fill their places. There is no sign of the Prussians, eh?"

"No," said Frank. "I hope there never will be! But, tell me, would they fight here? Are there fortifications?"

"Not new ones—no," said Harry. He pointed to the old citadel crowning one of the hills that commanded the town and the crooked, twisting course of the Somme river. "There is the old citadel. That still stands. But the ancient battlements have been dismantled. I believe that in time of war, if the enemy got past the troops in the field, they could come peacefully into Amiens. It is not a fortress, like Lille or Maubeuge. Oh, look, there are some of the scouts! I see Monsieur Marron. He is the directeur of the troop—the scoutmaster. Let us speak to him."

They went over to a tall man in khaki, who was speaking to an officer in the red and blue uniform of the French army. Henri saluted, and when the officer went away, the scoutmaster turned to him with a smile.

"Well—so you are here, Martin," he said. "Are you going to join? We will waive formalities—we need all the scouts we can get."

"Yes, sir, and I have brought a recruit. He is half French—the rest of him is American. But he wants to join, too. May he?"

"Certainly," said the scoutmaster. "Report to-night or in the morning. Get your uniforms. Who is your recruit?"

Frank was introduced, and the tall Frenchman shook hands with him.

"You will be welcome," he said. "My boys are at work, you see. They are serving as messengers. There has been plenty for us to do in these days, too. Pray God there may not be more—and of a less pleasant sort."

Frank observed the French scouts with interest. They were in khaki uniforms, with wool stockings, and short trousers that stopped just above the knee, and the soft campaign hats made famous by the pioneer scouts in England. Indeed, they looked like the English and American scouts in many respects.

"One moment," said Marron, checked by a sudden thought. "You speak French well?" He asked the question of Frank, who smiled.

"Yes, sir," he said, in French. "My mother was French, you see."

"That is very good," said the scoutmaster. "Never fear, I shall be able to keep you busy as long as I am here. Soon, I hope, they will let me go to the front, where I should be right now."

"I thought you would have gone, sir," said Henri.

"They wanted me to stay with my boys at the first," said Marron, with a shrug of his shoulders. "But they can do their work alone now, and there is no fear that they will not do it well."

Then Frank and Henri went off, on their way to Henri's house.

"So we have come to Amiens after all and we are to join the Boy Scouts, just as we planned that day when I said there would be no war this year!"

"Yes—but it's different, isn't it, Henri?"

"Yes, and we can be of some real use now."

"I am glad that we are here, aren't you? When we get our uniforms and go to work, I shall feel that we are really being used in the war. I—I'm an American, of course, but I've hated the idea that I was so close to this war and wasn't having anything to do with it."

"And I—I have been wishing, Frank, that they might have waited until I was old enough to fight for France!"

CHAPTER V

THE FIRST DUTY

Morning brought awakening to the two friends with the sounding of reveille from bugles, seemingly just outside their window. Together they sprang from bed, raced to the window, wide open as it had been all night, and looked out. Not far away, in a small park, one of those for which the city of Amiens is famous, they saw an array of white tents that they had not seen the night before when they had gone to bed. Already the camp was stirring; even as they watched the soldiers were all about. And early as it was, they saw a scout ride up on a bicycle, speak to the sentry who challenged him, and wait. In a moment an officer came out, the scout saluted, and his salute was returned as stiffly and gravely as it had been given. Then the scout handed the officer a letter, saluted again and, receiving permission, turned away and vaulted on his wheel.

Henri was vastly excited.

"Come on!" he cried eagerly. "Let's get dressed, Frank. I see that we should be out already."

"Yes. It's time we were getting busy if the others are at work," said Frank. "Where do you suppose those chaps came from?"

"I don't know—that's exactly what's puzzling me," said Henri, his brow knitted. "They don't look like reserve troops. I don't know exactly why, either, but we can soon find out."

They bathed and dressed hurriedly, and went down to find that Marie, the cook who had been with the Martin family ever since Henri could remember, was ready to give them their breakfast. In a time when many families for reasons of economy were allowing their servants to go, Henri's mother had kept all of hers.

"Now, more than ever," she said, "they need the work and the wages. It is a time for those who can possibly afford it to engage more servants, rather than to discharge those