THE BOY ALLIES WITH MARSHAL FOCH (continued 3)

Came footsteps on the vestibule without. Instantly an air of excitement pervaded the car. Staff officers, trying to look unconcerned, failed miserably, and no wonder. Great events were impending. A man could hardly help showing the strain under which he was laboring.

Marshal Foch was by all odds the coolest man in the car.

Directly the door opened. In stepped the German delegates—five of them—and behind them came the French officers who had been their pilots.

General Dupree arose to receive them. Marshal Foch was still busy at his desk. He did not look up.

First the German envoys were allowed to remove the bandages from their eyes. Then they were presented to General Dupree, who acknowledged the introductions with a stiff salute.

"If it is your desire to speak with the commander-in-chief," he said to the Germans, "his excellency will grant you a brief interview. But he is very busy, so you must be brief."

He spoke to the commander-in-chief, who laid down a sheaf of papers and rose to his feet.

Marshal Foch and the Germans saluted stiffly. Introductions followed.

"You must be brief, gentlemen," said Marshal Foch. "My time is valuable."

One of the Germans advanced.

"We have come," he said quietly, "to learn on what terms we may accept the armistice you have offered."

"Armistice?" repeated Marshal Foch, "I have made no offer of an armistice."

The German officer bit his lip.

"But I understood—" he began.

"Enough of this subterfuge," said Marshal Foch sternly. "It is my understanding that you come hither to request an armistice preliminary to negotiations for peace. If I am mistaken, we are losing valuable time."

Marshal Foch saw plainly through the Germans' plan. It was to make it appear that the armistice had been offered by the allies, and not sought by the German high command. The French commander-in-chief realized, too, what effect this would have on the German people. It would bolster their flagging courage and might possibly result in many more months of war.

"But—" began the German again.

"It is idle to argue," said Marshal Foch. "As I say, I understood that the German high command seeks an end of this war. If so, I shall be glad to state my terms. If not, I shall order an advance along the whole front within two hours."

The German delegate to whom had been assigned the role of spokesman bowed.

"It is our misfortune, sir," he said, "to ask for an armistice, in order that negotiations may be begun to put an end to further bloodshed."

"That is different," said Marshal Foch. "In that case, I shall be glad to state my terms. Briefly, they are these: That Germany immediately surrender to the allies quantities of arms and ammunition, the amounts to be determined later; that a certain number of war vessels and other ships, including submarines, be turned over as evidence of good faith; that German troops, in a specified time, shall withdraw to the east banks of the Rhine. In a word, I demand such sacrifices as will preclude the possibility of Germany renewing the struggle."

The German delegates uttered exclamations of protest.

"But, sir," said the spokesman, "Germany cannot submit to those terms."

"Take them or leave them," said Marshal Foch, throwing wide his hands.

"Have I your permission to confer with my associates?" asked the spokesman.

Marshal Foch produced his watch and laid it on his desk.

"I will allow you fifteen minutes," he replied.

The Germans withdrew to the far end of the car, where they began an animated discussion. At last the spokesman again approached Marshal Foch and saluted.

"I am afraid," he began, "that it is not in our power to accept such conditions out of hand. It will be first necessary to obtain the consent of higher authorities than we chance to be."

"Yes?" said Marshal Foch inquiringly.

He had expected something like this.

"In which case," went on the German, "we have to request a cessation of hostilities while we return to our lines for further instructions."

Marshal Foch shook his head.

"It is impossible," he said quietly.

The German was surprised. Clearly he had expected nothing like this.

"But, sir," he protested, "it is utterly impossible for us to accept these conditions. We have not the authority. We must secure it from the high command."

"That is your misfortune," said Marshal Foch.

"Then what are we to do?"

"You may return to your own lines at your own risk," said Marshal Foch. "I shall order firing stopped for a brief space that you may leave the allied lines; also, a flag of truce will be honored again, if you care to return. But in the interval, I propose to renew the fighting."

Again the German delegates debated.

"If that is the best you can do, sir," said the spokesman at last, "we shall have to be content."

"It is the best I can do," said Marshal Foch. "Now let me make a suggestion. It is perfectly plain that if the sentiments of the German high command are sincere, the sooner you return the better for all concerned. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"Then my suggestion is this. I shall place a fast army plane at your disposal that you may return to your own lines the quicker."

"But we have no pilot," protested the German.

"I will furnish the pilot."

A third time the Germans debated the matter.

"We accept, sir," said the spokesman at last.

Marshal Foch surveyed the group of French officers in the car. Then his eyes fell on Hal and Chester.

"Major Paine!" he called.

Hal stepped forward and saluted.

"If memory serves," said Marshal Foch, "you are an experienced air pilot?"

Hal bowed his assent.

"Good," said the commander-in-chief, "then we need look no further for a pilot, gentlemen."

"Major Crawford."

Chester stepped forward and saluted.

"You will place yourself at the disposal of Major Paine, sir."

Chester saluted again and stepped back.

"General Dupree!"

The officer addressed stepped forward.

"You will present my compliments to the burgess of the town, and ask him to place his largest aircraft at your disposal."

General Dupree left the car.

"I guess that is all, gentlemen," said Marshal Foch. "I shall remain here until to-morrow at this time, awaiting your return. If you are not back within that time I shall consider negotiations suspended!"

"Major Paine."

Again Hal stepped forward.

"General Dupree, before you leave, will furnish you with a map showing where you may pass safely through our lines and at what hours fire will be remitted at certain points. It will be all the safeguard you need. I shall continue to advance in all other sectors. Good day, gentlemen."

Marshal Foch saluted the Germans stiffly, and then signified that the interview was ended by turning again to his desk.

Hal and Chester led the way from the car, closely followed by the German delegates. Outside, they encountered General Dupree, who announced that the large army plane would be ready within fifteen minutes.

Hal then mentioned the map Marshal Foch had said General Dupree would provide, and the general hastened away to prepare it. He returned within a few minutes and placed the map in Hal's hands.

"I shall issue the necessary orders at once," he said.

He, too, saluted the Germans again and then took his departure.

Less than fifteen minutes later the mayor of the town himself hurried up.

"Follow me, gentlemen," he said with great dignity. "Your craft is ready."

At the far side of the little town, Hal, Chester and the Germans came to the machine. No time was wasted in words. The Germans climbed in and Hal and Chester took their places.

"Let her go!" shouted Chester, to the men on the ground.

The huge airplane began to move.

CHAPTER XXI

STUBBS' SCOOP

To keep in proper touch with all the characters in this story, it will be necessary for a few moments to go back several days and give an account of the activities of Anthony Stubbs, war correspondent of the New York Gazette.

Now when Stubbs left Hal and Chester in Soissons he had, as he had told the lads, laid what he considered all necessary plans to make sure that he would be apprised of the signing of the armistice between Germany and the allies ahead of any other of the war correspondents in Europe.

Reaching Versailles, Stubbs took quarters in one of the largest hotels. Now it is a fact, that in many quarters, even in Europe, it was thought that General Foch and the German delegates had come together several days before they really met. Stubbs, in constant touch with his source of information, from time to time received so-called details of progress of the proceedings supposed to be in progress.

The little man was greatly elated. There were a score or more other war correspondents in Versailles and Stubbs managed to worm from them the fact that they were without information regarding the armistice. Believing his own information absolutely true, he naturally felt that he was a step or so ahead of his rivals.

On the night of November 9, Stubbs retired early. The little man slept literally with one eye open. He didn't intend to miss anything.

He came to himself with a start. The telephone bell in his room was jingling.

"Wonder who wants me at this hour?" he muttered sleepily, and turned over, for the moment losing sight of the fact that this might be the particular call he was so anxious to get.

The bell continued to jingle.

"May as well answer it, I guess," said Stubbs. "It won't stop till I do."

He climbed out of bed, switched on the lights and put the receiver to his ear.

"Hello," he said.

"Stubbs?" came a voice over the wire.

"Yes."

"Admiral W— talking. The armistice was signed this morning at 11 o'clock."

"What's that?" Stubbs yelled into the 'phone, jumping up and down excitedly. "Hello! Hello!"

But the voice on the other end of the wire was gone.

In vain Stubbs rattled the hook. He could not recall the voice.

"May be somebody trying to have some fun with me," muttered Stubbs. "I can't take a chance on any such message as that. I must verify it. I'll call the admiral and see if it were really he on the wire."

It took him a good five minutes to get the connection, but at the end of that time a "hello" was wafted over the wire.

"Admiral W—?" demanded Stubbs.

"Yes."

"This is Stubbs. Did you call me a moment ago?"

"Yes."

"Then it is a fact that the armistice has been signed."

"It is. I had my information not more than fifteen minutes ago."

"I just wanted to make sure it was really you who called," Stubbs explained hurriedly. "Good-bye."

He slapped the receiver back on the hook and literally flew into his clothes.

"No time for an elevator now," he muttered as he dashed out the door, through the hall and down the steps.

In the lobby downstairs half a dozen war correspondents had gathered in a little knot. They came to their feet as Stubbs dashed down the steps.

"What's the matter, Stubbs?" one called.

But Stubbs did not stop to reply. Out the door he dashed, his coat trailing behind him.

It was perhaps half a dozen blocks to the cable office. Stubbs covered the distance in jig time, formulating his message in his mind as he went.

"No time for details now," he muttered. "Just the flash. I'll get the details later."

Into the cable office he dashed.

Behind him the little knot of correspondents became alarmed.

"The little man knows something," said one of them. "Don't suppose the armistice could have been signed, do you?"

"Not a chance," said another. "We'd have the word."

"Well, Stubbs was in a terrible hurry about something," said a third. "We'd better get busy and find out what it's all about."

They sprang to action.

"I'll go after him," said Jennings of The World. "The rest of you fellows get busy on the 'phone. Call every man in authority in the city. Some of them will know something. Doesn't matter whether they kick about being called at this hour or not. Get busy."

He dashed out the door after Stubbs.

In the cable office Stubbs grabbed a blank and wrote, in code:

"Armistice signed this a.m. at eleven o'clock at Hirson. Stubbs."

The message he handed to the clerk with instructions to rush it.

"That'll be enough," said Stubbs. "They'll know at the office what to do with it. They'll probably write columns at that end describing the scenes at Hirson between Marshal Foch and the German delegates. There'll be pictures and everything. Now I'll go and learn a few of the details."

He encountered Jennings of The World as he moved toward the door.

"Look here, Stubbs," said Jennings, "why all this rush. You're not going to leave the rest of us out in the cold, are you?"

Stubbs smiled.

"I'm not working for you fellows," he replied. "The New York Gazette is paying me my weekly stipend, but I don't mind saying I've landed a big piece of news."

Jennings attempted to minimize the matter.

"Oh, I guess it's not so terribly big," he said.

Again Stubbs smiled.

"Guess again," he said.

"But I say, Stubbs, give me a hint."

"Not a hint," declared Stubbs.

"Well, all right," said Jennings, "but you'll be sorry."

"Not half as sorry as the rest of you'll be when you hear from home after The Gazette is on the street," declared Stubbs.

Jennings looked at Stubbs closely. The latter was clearly excited.

"By Jove! He must know something," Jennings decided. "I can't waste time here."

He turned on his heel and was gone.

An hour later, after Stubbs had made ineffectual efforts to learn from Admiral W— details of the signing of the armistice, he gave it up for the night.

"I know no more than I have told you," said the admiral. "I should have the details in the morning. Call me then."

Stubbs returned to his hotel. Again he was surrounded by the other correspondents who, after trying all their channels of news, had failed to learn anything of importance.

"Come across, Stubbs," said one.

"Not yet," said Stubbs. "But I'll tell you what. I'll give you my news one hour from now. That will assure The Gazette of a beat."

He remained deaf to all urging, and directly the other correspondents gave it up as a bad job.

Jennings, watch in hand, an hour later said.

"Come, Stubbs, time's up. What's your news?"

"Well," said Stubbs quietly and with an air of great importance, "the armistice has been signed."

"What?" yelled Jennings. "You're crazy, man! There has been no conference yet."

"Nevertheless, it's true," said Stubbs. "I have my information from unimpeachable sources."

"Who told you?" demanded Timothy, of The Mail.

"You've been in the game long enough to know a newspaperman doesn't divulge the source of information, Timothy," said Stubbs. "Nevertheless, I can say that it came from a very high source."

"Well," said Jennings, "I don't believe it. I'm not going to flash my paper on any such information. I'm standing pat."

"Same here," declared Timothy.

"And here," "and here," chimed in the others.

"Suit yourselves," said Stubbs with a shrug. "You'll probably get the word in the morning."

He returned to his room.

In spite of the fact that the other correspondents declined to take Stubbs' words as gospel, it was an uneasy group of men Stubbs left behind him.

All night long they tried in vain to confirm the signing of the armistice. It could not be done.

Stubbs came downstairs again at 7 o'clock. Once more he was surrounded by the correspondents.

"Boys," he said, "I shall call my source of information now. If I get the details, I will tell you where you can verify them."

He entered a telephone booth, where he remained for perhaps ten minutes. When he emerged again, his face was drawn and he walked with the air of a man who has lost his last friend.

"Well," demanded Jennings, "what have you to tell us?"

"Boys," said Stubbs slowly, "my days in the newspaper business are ended. I have just committed the cardinal sin. I have sent false information to my paper, though in good faith. The armistice has not been signed. Admiral W— has just informed me his information was premature. What his message should have said is that the conference is in session. My resignation shall be cabled to The Gazette together with my retraction."

Sadly the little man walked away.

"By Jove! that is tough," commented Timothy. "Yet, with such information I should have done the same. Well, our jobs are saved, but I'll bet Stubbs' resignation will be unnecessary. He's fired right now, though he doesn't know it."

And so it was none other than Anthony Stubbs who was responsible for the premature flash that reached America that the armistice had been signed. Every city in the United States, almost, when the news was heard, had declared a holiday. Hours and days passed and still the news could not be confirmed. And then the state department issued a statement denying it. The feeling of happiness changed to disappointment.

But in the French city of Versailles Anthony Stubbs was, at the moment perhaps, the most disappointed man in the world.

CHAPTER XXII

SPA

The German envoys, returning to their own lines, were silent as the big airplane driven by Hal sped across the allied lines. Eyes below were strained as the craft dashed along, for news traveled swiftly among the soldiers and word that the preliminary meeting between the German delegates and Marshal Foch had not been entirely satisfactory had spread among the troops.

As General Dupree had told Hal, firing ceased in the zone that the airplane traversed. Guns snorted and bullets flew on all other sides, but Hal, laying his course by the map General Dupree had given him, avoided all danger.

From the spokesman of the German delegates Hal had learned that their destination was the little German village of Spa. It was there that the German emperor and the High Command was quartered. Hal laid the nose of the airplane in that direction.

Now, in flying, great distance can be covered in a very short period of time. The plane that Hal drove was capable of making almost 200 miles an hour under proper conditions. Hal, however, did not attempt to get that speed out of the machine. Flying well above the ground, the craft sped quietly along at something like 100 miles an hour.

It was dark when they passed across the brief expanse of No Man's Land. Looking down, Chester saw a few twinkling lights. These, he knew, came from the German positions. Some were signal lights for the enemy aircraft, others just the lights usually to be found in a great army encampment.

Chester leaned forward and touched Hal on the shoulder.

"Sure you have the right course?" he asked.

"Perfectly," was Hal's response, his voice raised almost to a shout to make himself heard above the humming of the motor and the purr of the giant wings of the aircraft.

Chester sat back, apparently satisfied.

The lights displayed among the German troops disappeared as the plane continued its journey toward the northeast. Soon, however, other lights came into view below.

"This," said Hal, "should be Spa, unless my geography and sense of direction are all wrong. I'll take a chance, at all events."

Almost above a score of the lights, Hal shut off the motor and the machine began to descend. A short time later it came quietly to earth just beyond the village. Hal scrambled out and spoke to the Germans.

"This should be Spa, according to my calculations," he said. "Correct me if I am wrong."

"You are right, sir," said one of the German delegates. "You have done well in bringing us here in such a short period of time."

The Germans alighted, and Chester also scrambled out.

"If you will come with us," said the spokesman of the enemy mission to the lads, "we will see that you are provided with quarters for the night. It is hardly possible that we will return before to-morrow at noon, if at all."

The lads followed the Germans into the town. Before a building somewhat larger than the rest, the men stopped and the one who appeared to be leader of the party said:

"You gentlemen wait here. I will go within and see that quarters are provided for the young Americans."

He motioned the lads to follow him, which they did. Inside a German officer barred their progress, but the German soon set the man's doubts at rest, and the latter stepped aside.

"Captain," said the German envoy, "these gentlemen have brought us back from the allied lines, and will conduct us there again to-morrow should it be necessary for us to go. You will kindly see that they have all necessary accommodations for the night."

"Yes, sir," said the captain.

"Then I shall leave them to you. I will return for them to-morrow some time."

"Very well, sir."

The German bade the lads good night and took his departure. The German captain addressed them.

"Kindly follow me, sirs," he said.

The lads did so. Along a long hall they were led. Then they turned into a large room at the far end of the hall. Inside were a dozen or more German officers. The captain led the way toward a door across the room. All eyes were turned on the lads as they stepped across the room.

Suddenly there came an exclamation from a man who sat near, as Hal and Chester passed. A chair scraped the floor and a man sprang up and confronted them. Hal and Chester looked into the eyes of General Knoff, the German general whose daughter Chester had befriended in Sedan some weeks before.

"So," said the general confronting the lads with a gleam of anger in his eyes, but his gaze resting particularly upon Hal, "so you made fools of me in Sedan, eh?"

Hal smiled. He was perfectly safe now and he knew it. Not a man there nor in the German lines any place for that matter would dare harm the officer who had piloted the German envoys back from their tryst with Marshal Foch.

"It had to be done, General," said Hal, still smiling.

"But," protested the general, "why was it necessary for you to pick me for your tool?"

"We wouldn't have done that, General," said Hal, "had you not been so insistent upon our having breakfast with you."

"Well," said General Knoff, "it would appear that the fates are just, after all. I have no doubt that it was information you gained from me that spoiled our plans."

"I have no doubt of it either, sir," Hal smiled.

"And such being the case," the general continued, "I shall see to it that you are tried as spies."

"But we are in American uniform now, sir," said Hal.

"You weren't then," was the reply, "as I stand willing to prove. No; I shall have you shot. No man can make a fool of me and live."

"You can't do that, sir," said Hal, quietly.

"I can't, eh?" exclaimed the general. "I would like to know what is to prevent me?"

Hal's smile seemed to infuriate the general.

"Captain," he said, "you will place these men under arrest."

The German captain saluted respectfully, but he shook his head.

"It is impossible, sir," he said.

"What's that?" demanded General Knoff angrily. "Do you dare dispute my orders?"

"Only when I have previously received commands from your superiors, sir," was the reply.

"What do you mean?"

"These young Americans," the captain explained, "have safe conduct in our lines. I only know they have piloted our delegates who have been discussing an armistice with the French commander-in-chief. I cannot arrest them, sir."

"I see," said General Knoff. "You are perfectly right, captain."

He stepped close to Chester and extended a hand.

"As a military measure," he said, "I would have you shot for what I know, but I want to thank you again for a service you rendered me in Sedan."

Chester was taken absolutely by surprise. Nevertheless he grasped the general's hand, for that was what seemed to be expected of him.

"I am glad I was on hand at such an opportune moment, sir," the lad replied.

"So am I," said the general. "You know my name, of course. When the war is over, should you chance to be in Berlin, it would give me pleasure to entertain you at my home in Berlin."

"Thank you, sir," said Chester. "Should I chance to be in Berlin at any time, I shall avail myself of your offer, sir."

The general bowed slightly, insisted on shaking hands with Hal also, and then said:

"Well, gentlemen, you are probably tired from your trip, so I will not detain you longer. Captain, I leave the young Americans to you."

The lads followed the German captain from the room.

Their quarters for the night were commodious, though not richly furnished. However, as Hal said: "I have slept in whole lot more unpleasant places and thought I was doing well."

"It's plenty good for me," Chester agreed. "By the way, Hal, has it occurred to you that we may return to Hirson to-morrow alone?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, that the German high command may refuse to accept Marshal Foch's terms, and refuse to negotiate farther."

"Hardly likely," said Hal. "My view is that the Germans are so anxious for peace that they will accept almost any terms."

"I hope I'm wrong, of course," said Chester. "but I am simply judging by what one of the envoys said about 'if' they returned to-morrow."

"I heard him," said Hal, "but at the same time I don't take much stock in any such statement. In the first place, these envoys don't have any more to say about what terms they shall accept than I do."

"Oh, they don't, eh?"

"Of course not. It is the German high command, that will make that decision. The delegates will do whatever they are instructed to do. They are merely the representatives of the powers that be."

"Nevertheless," said Chester, "if they sign terms, the terms will be binding."

"Of course; unless it should be that the Germans consider the agreement simply another 'scrap of paper,' as they did the Belgian treaty."

"I think the Germans have learned a thing or two," said Chester. "I don't believe they'll ever try such tactics again. They have at least learned that the majority of nations are honorable, and that they are in honor bound to respect treaties."

"Let us hope so," said Hal. "Now we've talked enough. I vote we turn in. We may have a hard day to-morrow."

"All right. It suits me. And here is one night we will sleep within the German lines in comfort, for we will not have to be on the watch for enemies and fear possible discovery."

"Right," agreed Hal, "and at the same time we are here in the line of duty. Well, me for the hay."

"Not a very elegant expression, perhaps," said Chester with a grin, "but very much to the point. Me for the hay, too."

Ten minutes later both lads were fast asleep.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE KAISER ABDICATES

It was another historic conference that Hal and Chester attended the following morning. It is true they were not invited guests; neither, perhaps, were they supposed to overhear the nature of historical facts as they were written that day. It was, most likely, an oversight that permitted them to be near when the German emperor signed a formal decree of abdication.

It still lacked a few minutes of 7 o'clock on the morning of November 10 when Hal and Chester turned out, greatly refreshed by a good night's sleep. They strolled from the house where they had spent the night, and for perhaps an hour took in the sights about the German city. Then they returned to their temporary quarters, for, as Hal said, "there is no telling when we shall be wanted and it is just as well to be there."

It was half an hour later when a German officer appeared and instructed them to follow him. This the lads did without hesitancy. Their guide led them to a distant part of the village, where an extraordinary array of tents told the lads that they were near important personages in the German ranks. The guide showed them into a tent somewhat smaller than the rest, where he left them.

After they had been alone perhaps twenty minutes, Hal explored.

"Well," he said, "if these fellows don't hurry they won't get back to Marshal Foch's rendezvous until too late."

"Oh, I guess they'll get there in time all right," replied Chester. "At least they will if they know what's good for them."

Meanwhile Hal, peering through the canvass door at one end of the tent, ascertained that the door of the second tent in some unaccountable manner had been left open. Also, the lad perceived that the tent was filled with uniformed figures.

"Something going on," he said to Chester in a low voice.

Chester stepped forward and peered over Hal's shoulder.

"There certainly is," he agreed. "Wonder if we will be able to hear what they say?"

"I guess we can," said Hal. "I don't like to eavesdrop, but we might learn something that will help."

"I guess the end will justify the means," said Chester.

They became silent.

It was clear to both lads that the figures in the tent were awaiting the arrival of another person. And presently the latter came; and when he entered, the tent both lads stifled exclamations of surprise with difficulty.

"Well, what do you think of that!" Chester ejaculated.

"By Jove! I didn't know he was in this part of the field," said Hal.

For the man who had just entered the tent was none other than the German Emperor, Wilhelm II.

Gazing more closely, the lads made out other familiar figures. There was, first, General Ludendorff, chief of the German staff; General Von Hindenburg, and newly created Chancellor Ebert. Also the tent was crowded with other notables, both military and civilian.

It was the kaiser who spoke first. Straining their ears, the lads were able to catch every word that was uttered.

"Well, gentlemen," said the kaiser, "I am here at your request. What is it you desire of me?"

It was General Ludendorff who replied.

"Your majesty, it is my painful duty to acquaint you with the terms laid down by the enemy commander-in-chief."

"What are they?" demanded the kaiser briefly.

In as few words as possible, General Von Ludendorff outlined the terms of an armistice as Marshal Foch had presented them to the German envoys.

The kaiser fidgeted impatiently until his chief general had concluded. Then he burst out:

"We shall accept no such terms."

General Ludendorff bowed.

"As I supposed you would answer, your majesty. Nevertheless, it again becomes my duty to acquaint you with other unpleasant facts."

The German emperor appeared surprised.

"Explain, sir," he said briefly.

Again General Ludendorff bowed.

"Well, your majesty," he said, "it must be plain to you that the war is lost to German arms."

"Not at all," said the kaiser. "I still have millions of men in the field, and there are others who yet may take up arms."

"Very true," said General Ludendorff, "they may be able to take up arms if they will. The trouble is, your majesty, that they probably will decline longer to wage a losing fight."

The German emperor started back.

"What!" he exclaimed in a loud voice. "The German soldier refuse to obey my commands?"

"Exactly, your majesty," said General Ludendorff.

"Any such men shall be instantly shot," declared the kaiser.

"That would be all very well, Sire," said General Ludendorff, "if there remained any to carry out the sentence of execution."

The kaiser began to catch a glimmer of the true situation.

"You mean," he asked in a low voice, "that my men will refuse to fight longer?"

Again General Ludendorff bowed.

"Precisely, your majesty," he said quietly.

The kaiser dropped abruptly into a chair.

"I should have been warned," he muttered. "I should have been warned. For years I have seen this coming, and yet I would not take heed."

He rose to his feet again.

"Tell me," he said to General Von Ludendorff, "what are your sentiments in this matter, General?"

"The same as the sentiments of the soldiers, your majesty."

"You mean that I must accept the enemy's terms?"

"Yes, your majesty."

"Well, I won't do it."

"There is yet an alternative," said General Ludendorff slowly.

"And that?" demanded the kaiser, his voice hopeful.

"Abdication," said General Ludendorff quietly.

"What!"

The kaiser stepped quickly forward and raised his right hand. General Ludendorff stepped quickly back several paces.

"I should strike you down where you stand," said the kaiser, lowering his arm and letting his hand play with the hilt of the sword that he wore at his side. "Give up my throne, and throw my people upon the mercy of the enemy?"

"The people would be very glad to be thrown upon such mercy," said General Von Hindenburg, now stepping forward. "Your majesty, let me add my voice to that of General Ludendorff. I have fought for you as best I know how, but it has been a losing fight, as we have known, almost from the first. Something must be done, and that at once."

"Then you, too, general, urge that I renounce the throne?"

"I do, Sire, most emphatically."

The kaiser's face grew grave. Apparently such a thing as abdication had never entered his head.

"Well, gentlemen," he said at last, "I shall give my decision when my son, the Crown Prince, arrives, which should be in a very few moments."

The officers in the tent bowed low. Wilhelm II was still emperor, and would be until he had signed a formal decree of abdication. As officers of the emperor it was the duty of every man present to serve him.

As the kaiser had predicted, the Crown Prince, known more familiarly in allied circles as the "clown prince," because of his peculiar appearance, entered the tent.

He slapped his father familiarly on the shoulder.

"What's the matter?" he demanded. "Have the allies taken Berlin?"

The kaiser smiled feebly.

"Even worse, if possible, son," he said. "These gentlemen here," and he swept the interior of the tent with his arm, "ask that I renounce the throne of Germany so that my people may have peace."

The Crown Prince stepped back as though he had received a blow in the face. He recovered himself quickly, however, and said quietly.

"Please repeat that again, Sire."

The kaiser did so, and for a space of perhaps five minutes there was silence in the tent. Then the Crown Prince said:

"Well, Sire, what are you going to do?"

"Abdicate," said the kaiser briefly. "I shall abdicate in your favor. You may treat with the enemy."

"Hold on," ejaculated the Crown Prince. "You don't need to abdicate in my favor, sir. I don't want to be emperor, not under present conditions."

"Are you afraid?" demanded the kaiser sternly.

The Crown Prince was not to be bluffed like that.

"Maybe I am, and maybe I'm not," he said doggedly; "but I'm not going to be left in any such plight as this. You may wager on that, sir. If you abdicate in my favor, I shall follow suit, your majesty."

"As you will," said the kaiser. "I, at least, shall abdicate, and that at once. General Ludendorff; how soon can you have the necessary papers prepared?"

"I have already had them prepared, your majesty," was General Ludendorff's response. "I had hoped that you might see the light."

"Play the coward, you mean, eh?" said the kaiser. "But no matter. Put the paper before me and I shall sign."

From his pocket the general produced a long parchment, which he laid on the table. As his officers gathered about him, the German emperor read the paper carefully.

"You don't seem to have had much doubt about how I would act," he commented dryly. "Well, perhaps it is for the best."

He seized a pen and scrawled his name across the paper. He stepped back and looked at General Ludendorff.

"Perhaps," he said, "you have Had a similar paper drawn for the Crown Prince to sign?"

"I have," said General Ludendorff briefly. "I have overlooked nothing, Sire."

"So it would seem," said the Crown Prince angrily, "but I shall sign just the same."

He attached his signature to a second paper produced by General Ludendorff.

And thus ended the rule of the family of Hohenzollern.

CHAPTER XXIV

IN TROUBLE AGAIN

Hal and Chester, from their place of concealment, had been interested spectators of the abdication of the German emperor, and his son, the Crown Prince.

"By Jove!" said Hal, drawing back, "this is a sight we can brag about the rest of our natural lives."

"I should say so," agreed Chester. "And so the kaiser has abdicated. Who would have thought it?"

"Certainly not the kaiser himself four years ago," was Hal's response. "But it just goes to show that right is bound to triumph in the end."

"So it does. Now I suppose the signing of the armistice will be only a matter of form."

"I should judge so. But who will sign the armistice for Germany?"

"Chancellor Ebert, I imagine," said Chester. "He should be the proper man to do so now."

"Well, I guess we'll know soon enough," said Hal. "But see, the conference is breaking up. We'd better get back a bit. No need having them learn we have overheard what has happened."

The lads drew back to the far end of the tent.

Perhaps fifteen minutes later the man who had acted as spokesman for the German delegates at the conference with Marshal Foch entered the tent.

"I see you are still here," he said, smiling slightly. "We shall be ready to return to your lines soon."

"Very well, sir," said Hal, "we await your pleasure."

The man withdrew.

"Well," said Hal, "I guess the war's as good as over. Of course, it will be weeks and perhaps months after the armistice goes into effect before peace is signed, but I guess there will be no more fighting."

"I hope not," said Chester. "It's true enough that we've had a good time in Europe, such as it is, but how much better it will be when men turn their energies to up-building instead of destroying."

"True," agreed Hal, "and yet we know that until German militarism was destroyed, nothing was safe in this world. The war has been a benefit to mankind."

"From that standpoint, you are right, of course; and still, it would seem that there must be better ways than by wholesale killing. It is a long ways from being pleasant."

"It is indeed. I shall be glad when it is over. I don't believe there will ever be another war."

"Oh, I wouldn't go as far as to say that," said Chester. "I suppose that as long as there are nations, and men think as they do now there will be war. Of course, some day nations will come to observe the Golden Rule, and then wars will cease."

"I heard Colonel O'Neil say the other day," said Hal, "that wars will cease only when men quit thinking war."

"A very apt remark, by Jove!" said Chester.

Further conversation was prevented by the entrance of half a dozen figures, one of them the German delegate who had left the tent a few moments before.

"We will be moving any time you are ready, gentlemen," he said, addressing Hal.

"We are ready now, sir," was the lad's reply.

"Good! Then there is no need to delay. Let us go."

Hal and Chester followed the Germans from the tent.

Straight to the airplane in which Hal had piloted the Germans to their own lines from Hirson the Germans led the way. Beside the machine, they came to a stop.

"This trip," said the spokesman to Hal, "you shall carry a more distinguished personage."

"Very well, sir," said Hal with a slight bow. "Who, sir?"

"Chancellor Ebert," was the reply. "However, it is not desired that his departure be known; besides which, he will go incognito, his identity to be revealed only to Marshal Foch, and to be kept secret after that."

"I see," said Hal. "I shall never mention the matter, sir."

"I was sure I could depend on you. And your brother officer?"

"I can answer for him, too, sir."

"It is well. Then we may as well move."

He stepped aside to allow the German chancellor, a man of slight stature but imposing countenance, to enter the craft. The latter climbed in nimbly.

The others followed him.

Hal was about to take his place in the pilot's seat when there was a sudden interruption.

Came a body of infantry forward at the double and there was a shouted command to halt. Chancellor Ebert stood up in the airplane.

"One moment, sir," he said to Hal, and raised a hand.

The leader of the advancing troops, catching sight of the chancellor, halted his men and came to attention.

"What can I do for you, sir?" demanded Chancellor Ebert.

"There is a rumor about the camp," said the other, "that the emperor has renounced the throne in favor of the Crown Prince, who also has signed papers of abdication."

He stopped speaking and stood expectantly, awaiting a reply.

"Well?" asked Chancellor Ebert.

"We wish to know if the rumor is true, sir?"

"And what if it is true, General?"

"Nothing, sir, except that my men will obey none but his majesty."

"You mean," asked the chancellor, sharply, "that you will dispute my authority?"

"I do, sir."

"General Herwigs," said the chancellor, addressing one of his companions in the airplane, "will you kindly dispatch one of your men for assistance? It seems there is mutiny here."

In response to a command from the general, a man who had been standing near the airplane started away. He was immediately halted by the officer who had accosted the party in the plane.

"One moment, my man," said the officer. "You cannot pass here until I have verified the rumor of the kaiser's abdication."

"General Herwigs," said Chancellor Ebert quietly, "will you kindly place that officer under arrest."

"With pleasure, sir."

General Herwigs sprang from the machine with alacrity and approached the officer and addressed the latter's own men.

"You know me, men," he said. "I have ever been a stanch supporter of his majesty. But now General Derloff questions the authority of the imperial chancellor. I order you to arrest him."

It was plain that the sentiment of the troops was about evenly divided. General Derloff immediately began to harangue his followers, and while the argument continued the man whom General Herwigs ordered away in search of reinforcements took the opportunity to disappear.

He was out of sight before anyone noticed his absence. Ten minutes later, while the argument between the two generals still waxed hot, the troops meanwhile being undecided just what to do, a second force of infantry appeared in the distance, coming forward at the double.

General Derloff was the first to see them.

"Quick, men, away!" he cried. "We have been tricked!"

His men turned in confusion and ran.

As they did so, the loyal troops opened fire on the mutineers. Immediately the latter, angered, turned to reply to the fire.

Rifles cracked right and left.

The allied airplane, caught thus between two fires, was in a dangerous predicament.

"Climb in here, sir," said Hal to General Herwigs, "and we will make our escape while we may."

But Chancellor Ebert stayed the departure.

"A moment," he said. "I cannot fly while Germans, through a misunderstanding, are at each other's throats."

"But we must go, sir," said General Herwigs. "Time is growing short. Marshal Foch said that if we had not returned in twenty-four hours negotiations would be considered suspended. We have little time now, sir. Haste is necessary."

For answer Chancellor Ebert stepped from the plane.

"As I have said," he said quietly, "I cannot go now, under these conditions. But you may go, general, you and the other delegates. Before all these witnesses, I designate you to sign the armistice terms with Marshal Foch. But I cannot go. My place is here."

"But, sir—" began General Herwigs.

Chancellor Ebert stayed further words with upraised hand.

"Enough," he said quietly. "You heard me, sir. I am your superior, and as such will be obeyed. Report to me when the armistice has been signed, and not before."

General Herwigs, it appeared, was about to protest further, but the chancellor stayed him with a gesture.

"Hurry now," he said. "You have not much time."

Unmindful of the bullets that were flying overhead, he turned on his heel and walked toward the loyal troops, who, still firing at the mutineers, hurried forward to receive him.

General Herwigs, realizing that to protest further to the chancellor was useless, climbed in the airplane again and took his seat.

"No use arguing with him," he muttered.

Hal smiled slightly and made sure that his spark was set.

"All ready, sir?" he called back over his shoulder.

"All ready," was the reply; "and hurry."

The huge plane slid gently over the ground. Gradually its momentum increased until it was traveling with the speed of an express train. Then Hal touched the elevating lever.

The airplane leaped aloft.

Almost at the same moment, a dozen or more of the mutineers, who were still facing the loyal troops firmly, at command from General Derloff, turned their rifles on the airplane and fired.

Hal, catching their movements out of the corner of his eye, veered the course of the airplane sharply. Prompt though he was, he had not acted promptly enough.

A hail of bullets sang above and on both sides of him. The plane fluttered like a big bird, wounded.

Hal's heart sank within him.

"Something wrong," he told himself grimly. "We're hit."

Chester also was alarmed. His fear grew as the airplane began to descend.

"What's the matter, Hal?" he called.

"Don't know," was Hal's reply. "I'm going to land and find out."

CHAPTER XXV

A BATTLE

The descending airplane became the target at which a hundred or more rifles were aimed. Nevertheless, it reached the ground without any of its occupants being wounded.

Out sprang Hal and Chester and behind them the German envoys. While Hal darted around to examine the nature of the machine's injuries, Chester and the Germans drew their revolvers.

At the distance, however, as Chester well knew, revolvers were of no avail against the rifles in the hands of the mutinous Germans. But from behind, loyal troops were closing in on the latter. It appeared for the moment that the mutineers must yield in the face of this overwhelming force against them. Several threw down their rifles and raised their arms in token of surrender. The others, however, as they retreated before their erstwhile friends, drew even closer to the crippled airplanes.

One of the German envoys gave a sudden cry as a rifle bullet grazed his left arm. The mutineers had now come within range of the revolvers of the little party gathered about the fallen airplane, and the latter opened fire.

Confusion ensued in the ranks of the mutineers.

"Give 'em another," cried Chester, forgetful for the moment that his companions were Germans. Nevertheless, his words were understood, and a second volley of revolver bullets checked the approach of the enemies.

"How's the machine, Hal?" shouted Chester.

"I'll have her fixed in a jiffy," was Hal's reply, as he tinkered with the engine. "Nothing serious."

From all sides of the German camp, troops, attracted by the sounds of firing, rushed toward the scene of conflict. The mutineers, heavily outnumbered, nevertheless fought on doggedly. They must have realized that death would be the penalty should they be captured, and it seemed to be their intention of bringing down as many of their former companions as possible before being killed themselves.

The attack from the rear and either flank had become so severe that the mutineers were forced to abandon their efforts to shoot down the German envoys. Their ranks were sadly depleted now, but those who were left showed no signs of surrender.

And at last there remained but half a dozen.

"Surrender!" cried a German officer, and ordered his men to withhold their fire.

The mutineers' reply was a volley that laid the officer low.

But the shot that struck the officer did not kill. With difficulty the man raised himself on his elbow and gave a command to his men.

"Kill them!" he said quietly.

Three more volleys flared forth in rapid succession, and when the smoke had cleared away there was no mutineer left standing.

Chester breathed a sigh of relief.

"Safe again," he muttered.

This outbreak of German troops had an unpleasant effect on the German envoys.

"It is time we had peace, no matter at what price," mumbled one to himself. "Our people are on the verge of open revolt. Those men professed to be loyal servants of the emperor. It just goes to show the temper of the masses. Mutiny is in the hearts of the armies. Soon they would take matters in their own hands."

"You are right," said another. "It is to be earnestly hoped that we may have peace and set up a stable government before rioting becomes rampant."

"I am afraid it is too late even now," declared the first speaker.

At this juncture Hal came from beneath the airplane with the announcement that the machine was fit to resume its voyage.

"Please get in at once, gentlemen," he said. "We have not much time."

The German envoys stepped aside to permit Chancellor Ebert to return to them. This the chancellor did a few moments later, but what was the surprise of the others when the chancellor announced that he would not accompany them.

"My duty is here, it seems," he said quietly. "Events that have just transpired seem to prove that. No, gentlemen, I shall not go with you."

"But, sir—" began General Herwigs.

Chancellor Ebert stayed the protest with upraised hand.

"I have decided," he said quietly. "You, General Herwigs, I have designated as my representative. These gentlemen," and he included Hal and Chester with the others, "are witnesses to the fact."

The other bowed, but made no reply.

"That is all, gentlemen," said the chancellor. "You would better be on your way."

General Herwigs seemed to realize that further protest was useless. He drew himself up stiffly, as did the other envoys, and saluted the chancellor. Then, without another word, he re-entered the airplane.

The others took their seats, and Hal climbed again into the pilot's seat.

"All ready?" he asked.

Chester glanced around to make sure that all the passengers were ready for the trip.

"Let her go, Hal," he said a moment later.

The airplane sped across the ground. Directly it began to ascend. Soon Hal turned it a trifle so that its nose pointed toward the distant village of Hirson, where Marshal Foch and staff were awaiting the return of the two lads and the German envoys.

"And I hope," Hal muttered to himself, "that there will be no other delays."

But in this he was doomed to disappointment, and it was due to the lad's own carelessness that the trouble came about.

Looking now for the map given him by General Dupree, which was to mark out for Hal the safety zones in the allied lines, the lad was unable to find it.

Frantically he explored his pockets, the while keeping one hand on the wheel. He could not find the map.

"Now what do you think of that?" he muttered. "By Jove! I've just naturally got to have that map."

He slowed down the speed of the craft to enable him to make a more careful search of his pockets. The search was futile. The map was not there.

Hal turned the situation over in his mind as the craft sped on.

"I don't know how," he told himself, "but I've lost the map. That much is certain. What a dunderhead I must be, by Jove! Well, what shall I do now?"

Again he considered the matter.

"Well," he said aloud at length, "there is no need alarming the others, but if I don't have a map to show the safety zones at certain hours, I'll just naturally have to get there without one. That's all there is about that."

With Hal to decide was to act. He acted now, and without further thought of the danger that lay ahead.

The speed of the plane increased, and it soared higher into the heavens.

"It's safer up here," the lad told himself.

The airplane had now passed from over the German lines, so it was clear that the danger that Hal feared, whatever it was, was not from German aircraft. What worried the lad was the fact that he might be unable to run safely the gauntlet of allied machines that were patrolling the sky.

Once sighted by allied pilots, Hal knew, and there would be trouble. Any plane approaching from the direction of the German lines, and not in that section of the field designated as a safety zone by General Dupree, Hal was perfectly well aware, would incur the suspicion of whatever allied airman sighted it.

"He might let me explain, and he might not," the lad told himself. "Best way, I guess, is to keep out of their reach."

The lad made out the forms of several sky fighters several miles away. Of these he had no fear, however, for the distance was too great and they seemed, if anything, to be moving away from his machine. But soon the boy saw half a dozen craft, in close battle formation, bearing down on him.

"Here they come, ready for business," he muttered, "and they're Frenchmen, too, judging from here. Well, we'll have to go up a little higher and see if we can't dodge them."

The airplane went higher in the air.

But the craft bearing the German peace envoys had been sighted by the pilot of the air fleet, and the entire squadron now dashed toward Hal.

Came a rifle shot from the distance and Hal heard the whine of a bullet not a great distance from his ear.

"Too close for comfort," the lad muttered. "Now here is a case where I'm sorry the French air fighters are such confounded good marksmen. I'll have to see what this craft can offer in the way of speed."

The airplane seemed to leap forward as Hal touched the controls.

The machine bearing the lads and the German envoys was now many feet above the allied battle squadron. And, before the commander of the air flotilla realized what was happening, his prey sped by him unharmed.

Instantly he flashed a command to his other vessels to give pursuit, and the entire squadron turned and gave chase.

Although Hal had not warned the others of their danger, they were now fully conversant with what was going on. Plainly the German envoys were worried, for they had come on a mission of peace and naturally supposed Hal would pilot them safely to Hirson without their being molested.

But Chester had some glimmering of the truth.

"Hal's lost his map," he told himself. "Oh, well, I guess it won't make any difference. We'll get there safely enough. Hal is as full of tricks as a magician. Besides, we seem to be leaving those fellows in the lurch."

It was true. The pursuing flotilla was falling behind.

And directly Hal was so far in advance of his pursuers that he knew he was safe.

"Now for Hirson!" he muttered.

The remainder of the journey was made without incident, and several hours later the airplane landed only a few yards from where it had started the day before.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE CONFERENCE RESUMED

The mayor of the village was there to greet the German envoys when they stepped from the airplane. He announced that they would be conducted at once into the presence of Marshal Foch. He signified that Hal and Chester were to accompany the party.

The lads saw, as the mayor led the way, that the conference was to be resumed in Marshal Foch's private car, which still stood on a side track in the station yards.

Upon the platform of the car stood General Dupree. He greeted the German delegates stiffly.

"It is late," he said. "We had begun to fear perhaps you would not return. However, you are within the allotted time."

"We are later than we expected to be for unavoidable reasons, sir," said General Herwigs. "In fact, we came with difficulty."

He explained the trouble within his own lines, but for some reason he said nothing of the pursuit by the allied airplanes.

"I hope he forgets all about it," Hal murmured to himself. "It was gross carelessness on my part, and I should get a wigging. However, if he says nothing about the matter, it's a sure thing I won't."

General Dupree now showed the delegates into the car. As before, Marshal Foch sat at his desk, immersed in a pile of papers. He looked up as the delegates approached.

"Ah, gentlemen," he said, "pray, be seated."

He motioned the five men to seats at his table. Besides these, there were also seated there three or four members of the marshal's staff.

"I trust you had a pleasant trip, gentlemen?" said Marshal Foch politely.

"Not so very pleasant, sir," said one of the envoys, and explained what had befallen.

Marshal Foch expressed his condolences, then added:

"And now to business, gentlemen."

"We are ready to discuss terms, sir," said General Herwigs.

"Ah," said Marshal Foch, "but there shall be no discussion. I have stated my terms. It is for you to say whether Germany will accept."

"You have the terms in writing, Marshal?"

"I have, sir. They are here," and Marshal Foch extended a paper to General Herwigs.

General Herwigs read the several sheets of foolscap carefully. Then, without a word, he passed them to his associates, who scanned them carefully in turn. The paper was passed back to General Herwigs.

"They are very severe, sir," said General Herwigs.

"So they are," agreed Marshal Foch, "but under the circumstances I can do no better."

"But surely, sir," said General Herwigs, "you realize that they are more harsh than have ever before been imposed upon an enemy by a civilized nation?"

"Perfectly," said Marshal Foch. "At the same time, sir, never has a civilized nation wrought such ruin on the world at large as has Germany in the last four years. He who plays, must pay the fiddler, you know, sir."

"Is there no hope, sir," asked General Herwigs, "that the terms may be modified?"

"None," said Marshal Foch briefly.

For the space of perhaps five minutes General Herwigs was silent. Then he said:

"You will grant me a few moments' private conversation with my associates, sir?"

"As many as you choose," replied Marshal Foch.

The German delegates retired to the far end of the car, where they conversed in low voices for perhaps ten minutes. Then they returned to their seats.

"Since you insist upon these terms," said General Herwigs, "I want to record formal protest against their severity."

"It shall be duly recorded, sir," said Marshal Foch gravely.

"And," continued General Herwigs, "as you refuse to modify them, there is only one thing Germany can do."

There was an air of expectancy in the car. Hal felt his breath coming quickly. Chester's hands clenched and unclenched nervously.

At General Herwigs' last words, it seemed to both lads that he was about to defy Marshal Foch. Neither lad was able to place any other construction on his words.

"And that is?" asked Marshal Foch, answering General Herwigs' last statement.

"That is to accept the terms, sir!"

General Foch got to his feet and took a step forward.

"I am glad," he said simply. "There can be no one more glad than I that peace shall rest again upon earth after four years of war."

There was a subdued cheer from the allied officers in the car, but these were quickly suppressed.

"There remains, then," said Marshal Foch, "nothing now except the formal signing of the terms, which accomplished, I shall order an armistice effective from 11 o'clock to-morrow morning."

General Herwigs bowed.

"I am ready to sign now."

"You have the authority to speak for the German people?" asked Marshal Foch.

"I have, sir. Since the formal abdication of the kaiser and the Crown Prince——"

There were exclamations of surprise from all parts of the car. Even Marshal Foch seemed moved.

"The emperor has abdicated?" he questioned.

"Yes, sir, and the Crown Prince has declined to take the throne. Chancellor Ebert, now acting head of the government, has authorized me to sign the armistice terms in the name of the German people."

"It is well," said Marshal Foch.

The paper was spread out on the table. Once more General Herwigs read, as his associates grouped themselves about him.

"It is hard thus to sign away virtually the freedom of a mighty nation," he said, "but there is no help for it."

He signed.

Then the other German delegates affixed their signatures as witnesses, and Marshal Foch wrote his name.

So the armistice was signed. While formal peace negotiations would not be begun for perhaps months, the war was over so far as actual fighting was concerned.

In signing Marshal Foch's terms, Germany virtually had signed away her rights to be classed as one of the great powers. Besides agreeing to surrender the bulk of her arms and ammunitions, she had announced she would give up her most effective weapon of warfare—the submarine—the majority of her undersea craft to be turned over to the allied navies at a specified time.

By the terms of the armistice, Germany agreed to withdraw her armies from occupied territories to the east bank of the Rhine. It was stipulated that mooted questions, such as the disposition of the captured German colonies and the amount of indemnity Germany would be required to pay, would be left to the formal peace council of the allies. But, to make it absolutely certain that Germany would have to accept the decisions of the peace council, Marshal Foch, in imposing his stringent armistice terms, had tied the hands of the foe. Germany, once the terms of the armistice had been carried out, would have practically nothing with which to fight should she desire to resume the struggle.

Marshal Foch, having pocketed the document, indicated that the conference was adjourned.

"There is no other business before us, I believe, gentlemen," he said, "so I shall detain you no longer. I have much work to do in the next twenty-four hours and I must get about it."

At the door to the car the German envoys saluted the French commander-in-chief before taking their departure. Marshal Foch returned the salute stiffly. Upon suggestion of General Dupree, Hal and Chester were to take the German envoys back to their own lines. Neither lad was greatly pleased with the task, but there was no use of protest. The trip was made in record time, but when Hal and Chester returned to Hirson in the airplane, they found that Marshal Foch and his staff had gone to Soissons.

"Did the commander-in-chief leave any instructions for us?" Hal asked of the mayor.

"None," was the reply.

"Then we must report to him in Soissons," declared Chester. "We may not return to our own command without his permission, Hal."

"Right you are, Chester. Well, as long as we have this plane at our disposal, we shall continue to Soissons in it, if our good mayor here has no objections."

"None, sir," said the burgess of Hirson. "I am proud to be honored, as is every one of my fellow citizens. This has been a great event for Hirson."

"And for the world," said Hal briefly.

"Very true, sir," replied the burgess; "and for the world. But the plane is yours, if you will have it. After 11 o'clock to-morrow morning, we will have need of no such messenger of the air."

"Not for warlike purposes, at all events, I trust. Many thanks, Mr. Mayor. With your permission, we will be on our way at once."

The mayor bowed and insisted upon shaking hands with each. Then the lads repaired again to their machine and climbed in.

"Here's one trip we'll take without fear of danger," said Chester, as Hal touched the controls.

"Right," Hal agreed. "By the way, the mayor made us a present of this airplane. I've a good mind to keep it and take it back to America."

"Guess the French government would have something to say about that," laughed Chester. "However, you can try it if you want to."

"No," returned Hal, "guess I'd better leave it here. I've had trouble enough in the last few years and every German is my enemy. I don't want to make any more, particularly among our friends, the French."

The plane was now speeding through the air.

"Step on her, Hal!" cried Chester. "I want to get back to Soissons and then to our own command. Remember, the armistice doesn't become effective until 11 o'clock to-morrow morning. The fighting is not over yet. We may have a chance for a little more fun before it's all over."

"By Jove!" Hal ejaculated. "You're right. I hadn't thought of that."

The plane dashed forward faster than before.

CHAPTER XXVII

STUBBS REDEEMS HIMSELF

Now, it is a fact that for some hours after the armistice between Germany and the allies was signed the matter was kept secret, for some reason or other. To this fact was due, in a large measure, Anthony Stubbs' ability to redeem himself for the false information he had sent his paper some days before.

Much disgusted with himself over the false "scoop," Stubbs had left Versailles, more to escape the jibes of his fellow war correspondents than for any other reason.

The afternoon of November 11 found him again in Soissons, where he had parted from Hal and Chester several days before. The little man was very morose, and not without reason. So far he had received no reply from his cablegram to The Gazette, announcing that the previous information was untrue; but he was expecting an answer momentarily.

And at last it came. It read like this.

"Your error made us ridiculous. Sending man to relieve you. In meantime, depend upon you to keep us posted."

"Oh, I'll keep them posted, all right," said Stubbs, "but it won't do me any good now."

It was late in the afternoon when Stubbs ran into Hal and Chester, who had recently left Marshal Foch after reporting to the latter on their return from Hirson, where the armistice had been signed.

"Why, hello, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Versailles."

"I was," said Stubbs, "but I didn't stay very long."

"What's the reason for your return here?" demanded Hal. "I thought you wanted to be where you could save time when you got word of the signing of the armistice."

"I did," said Stubbs, "and that's the trouble. I got word two days ago that the armistice had been signed."

"But it hadn't," said Chester.

"Oh, I know that now," said Stubbs sorrowfully, "but it would have saved me a lot of worry had I known it then."

"You don't mean to tell me that you filed that dispatch to your paper, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal.

"I did," replied Stubbs briefly.

"Great Scott! Then it's a wonder you haven't been fired by this time."

"I have," said Stubbs, briefly again.

"What?" exclaimed Chester. "Fired from The Gazette, Mr. Stubbs?"

"Exactly; and I don't blame The Gazette, either."

"But how on earth did you come to file such a report?"

"Because I had it from a source that should have been authentic."

"From whom, may I ask?"

"Admiral W——"

"But the admiral should have known better," said Hal.

"Maybe he should have," said Stubbs; "trouble is he didn't."

"Now that's too bad, Stubbs," declared Chester sympathetically. "I'm certainly sorry."

"So am I," declared Stubbs grimly. "But that's the trouble with the newspaper game. You never get any credit for what you do, but you are always due for a wigging any time something goes wrong."

"And I suppose The Gazette put out an extra," remarked Hal.

"I'm dead sure of it," replied Stubbs grimly. "Here, look at this cable I just received."

Hal read the cablegram and then passed it to Chester.

"Pretty tough, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester, after scanning it hastily. "Now, isn't there anything you can do to redeem yourself?"

"Nothing that I can think of," was the reply, "unless I could be fortunate enough to get first word of the real signing of the armistice."

Hal and Chester both expressed their surprise.

"Great Scott, Mr. Stubbs!" said Chester, "didn't you know the armistice had been signed?"

"No, I didn't know it," declared Stubbs, "have you heard anything about it?"

"Have we?" exclaimed Hal. "Why, man, we were there when it was signed."

"Now listen here, Hal," said Stubbs, "I've been in hot water once. I don't want to get back there again."

"But I'm telling you facts, Mr. Stubbs," declared Hal. "The armistice has been signed. Chester and I were there when General Herwigs and four other German delegates affixed their signatures."

"Are you telling me the truth?" demanded Stubbs excitedly.

"The absolute truth, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester.

Stubbs looked at them closely.

"By Jove! I believe you are," he ejaculated at last. "And has this fact become generally known?"

"I don't see why it hasn't," replied Hal. "The armistice becomes effective at 11 o'clock to-morrow."

"Funny some of the other correspondents haven't heard of it," mumbled Stubbs to himself. "Some of them returned to Soissons with me."

"Well, you'd better get busy, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal, "or they will beat you to it."

"Then upon your advice," said Stubbs, "I'll get busy. Come with me, boys, and tell me what you can on the way. Hurry now."

Stubbs set out at a rapid pace for the nearest cable office, Hal and Chester at his heels.

Now, as it chanced, there was but one place in Soissons where, due to war conditions, a cable dispatch could be filed. The wire from there led direct to Versailles, where messages were relayed. It was the only possible means of communication with the outside world outside of military lines.

At the door of the cable office, Stubbs encountered Jennings, correspondent of The New York World, who had returned to Soissons at the same time Stubbs had.

"Hello, Stubbs," he grinned. "Armistice signed again? I see you're headed for the cable office."

"Never mind, Jennings," said Stubbs. "You think the laugh's on your side now. Maybe it won't be later."

"Perhaps not," Jennings admitted, "but if I were you, I'd be almighty careful of the next dispatch I sent The Gazette. Chances are your people will not relish being fooled a second time."

Now Stubbs was well aware of the fact that it would be possible for only one message to be sent out of Soissons at a time. So he said:

"Jennings, you have been pretty decent to me, so if you'll come along I'll do you a favor."

Jennings looked at Stubbs peculiarly.

"Something up?" he demanded.

"Considerable," returned Stubbs.

"Then I'll go along," said Jennings. "I haven't anything else to do."

He accompanied Stubbs and the two lads into the cable office.

"Now, Jennings," said Stubbs, "I'm not going to tell you what's up until I have filed my dispatch. But you'll have the next chance at the wire."

"Fair enough," said Jennings smiling. "I guess your stuff is not so awfully hot."

"Maybe not," said Stubbs. "Wait."

Briefly he scribbled on a cable blank, and passed the message to the operator. What he wrote was this:

"Armistice signed this P.M. at Hirson by General Foch, General Herwigs, representing Chancellor Ebert, and four other delegates. Information absolutely authentic. Trust me this time."

"Now," he said, turning to Jennings, "I'll tell you my news."

"Let's have it," said Jennings, somewhat indifferently.

"The armistice has been signed."

Jennings started, then recovered himself.

"That's what you said before," he declared with a grin. "Guess I'd better wait and get my information first-handed."

"That's what I've done this trip," replied Stubbs calmly.

"What do you mean?"

"Why," said Stubbs, "my friends here, Majors Paine and Crawford, were at Hirson when the armistice was signed this afternoon."

Jennings wheeled on the two lads, his face flushed with excitement.

"Is that true?" he demanded.

"Absolutely," said Hal.

Without further words, Jennings rushed toward the operator. But Stubbs was ahead of him.

"Hold on, now," said the little man. "I'm first at this wire, and I haven't finished my message yet."

"Hurry then," said Jennings, "and give me a chance."

"You stick close," said Stubbs, "and you shall have the second chance at the wire. But I haven't half finished yet."

"Great Scott, man! You've sent your flash, haven't you?"

"Yes; but I want to add a few details."

"Well, let me get in a few words ahead and I'll gladly relinquish the wire again."

"Not much," said Stubbs. "I have the wire now and I intend to keep it for the next hour if I have to file the first chapter of Genesis."

"Stubbs," pleaded Jennings, "don't be a hog. I've got to get word to The World. You know that."

"Then you should have got your own information," declared Stubbs.

Meantime, the little war correspondent had been scribbling busily, from time to time passing sheets of paper to the operator, who sat with his hand on the key.

Suddenly there was the sound of confusion without. A moment later half a dozen men rushed into the room. Stubbs smiled, as he recognized other war correspondents.

"I'm a little ahead of you, fellows," he said good-naturedly. "Now, I intend to keep this wire for the next hour. Then I shall release it to Jennings here. He'll probably do his best for you."

The other correspondents smiled sickly smiles. They were beaten and they knew it. True to his words, Stubbs ceased writing an hour later and Jennings captured the wire. Stubbs turned to Hal and Chester.

"Come," he said, "let's be moving. I think I have redeemed myself."

And he had, as later events were to prove; for The New York Gazette was the first paper in America to announce the fact that the armistice had been signed.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE END DRAWS NEAR

"WHEE-E-E-E-E-OU-O-O-O-O—BANG!"

Chester raised himself to a sitting position in his funk hole and looked over at Hal.

"Gosh all fishhooks! Looks like this was all a fake about the war being over at 11 o'clock this morning," he said. "Those shells don't sound like the end of the war to me. Do they to you?"

Hal admitted that they did not. The burst had almost covered both lads with earth and had been to close to allow either of them any peace of mind. "Down!" shouted Chester and again Hal rolled himself into a knot and wished that his funk hole was as many inches deeper. He had seen days when such a funk hole would have been sufficiently deep, but on that day of all days—half an hour before the end of the war—a forty-foot well wouldn't have been any too deep.

Hal's calculation was a bit off. The shell came whistling in, like the weird cry of a hungry beast, and exploded in the hollow below the funk holes in which Hal and Chester found themselves, throwing up a geyser of earth and rocks that did no harm to anyone.

"That guy's as wild as a hawk," came a cry from a nearby hole. "I could do better than that myself, and I ain't no artilleryman, either."

"You talk like you wanted him to shoot closer," Hal called back. "That was plenty close enough for me."

The next shell broke on the brow of the hill. Then came a whole shower of them, each one singing its own little tune that struck terror to the hearts of the bravest.

Chester squirmed down into his funk hole until he could see the dial of his wrist watch. It was 10.35. In twenty-five minutes more the war would be over.

A moment later American batteries behind them began sending over reprisal fire. The 75's passing over their heads whined savagely, but not so savagely as those boche shells coming in.

(It is a well-known fact that a shell going out has a different whine than a shell coming in, also a different effect on one's nerves.)

Twenty-five minutes is a long time when a man is hiding from death. To know that in twenty-five minutes, providing you are alive at the end of that time, death's shadow will have ceased to follow in your footsteps, is a great inducement to live.

Hal and Chester found it so.

They were back with their own command again after the trying days they had spent with Marshal Foch and the German envoys whom they had accompanied to and from their own lines and back again.

After leaving Stubbs in Soissons, following the little man's triumph in flashing first word of the signing of the armistice to his paper in America, they had reported to General Pershing in Rheims.

The American commander-in-chief had, of course, been informed some time before that the armistice had been signed. So, in fact, had all other officers in the allied armies. This had been necessary in order that there would be no doubt as to the hour upon which the armistice would become effective.

General Pershing expressed his pleasure at seeing the boys again, and his gladness that they had been so fortunate as to be present at the signing of the armistice.

"It is an honor that I would have been glad to have had myself," he declared.

After a brief interview with the commander-in-chief, the lads were dispatched by him with a message to General Rhodes, their old commander, with the Forty-second division, still quartered at the front, just to the south and east of Sedan.

Following the capture of Sedan, the American lines had been pushed forward in the face of determined resistance. Though the fighting was severe, the Germans did not have such a stiff front as they had formerly. It apparently was a well-known fact all through the German army that armistice proceedings were in progress, and consequently it appeared that the German officers were not willing to sacrifice their men needlessly.

So the American positions had been advanced despite enemy efforts to halt them.

After reporting to General Rhodes and delivering the communication they carried from the commander-in-chief, the lads repaired to the quarters of Colonel O'Neil.

"By George!" exclaimed the colonel, "I certainly am glad to see you fellows again. You have been gone so long that I feared you had come to grief. Where have you been?"

"Well, Colonel," said Hal briefly, "we saw the armistice signed."

"You don't mean it," was the colonel's ejaculation. "You were certainly confounded lucky. It's an event I would like to have seen myself. You must feel pretty important, eh?"

"Not so important that we cannot do a little more before the war ends," Chester said quietly.

"There is still work to be done," returned Colonel O'Neil quietly. "Hear the firing?"

The lads did not need to strain their ears to hear the distant rumble of big guns and the sharp crack of infantry firing, nearer at hand.

"Still at it, eh?" murmured Chester. "You would think that with the end of the war so close at hand, officers and men alike would be content to sit quiet."

"On the contrary, though," laughed Colonel O'Neil, "it would appear that each side is determined to wreak what death and destruction it can before a few written words shall stop this business of wholesale killing and ruin."

"So it would seem," Hal agreed. "But in the meantime, Colonel, is there nothing we can do? We would like to be in this war right up to the finish, you know, sir."

The colonel considered briefly.

"Well, yes, there is a little work you may do," he said. He turned to his desk and scribbled briefly. Turning again, he passed a paper to Chester.

"Major Lawrence," he said, "has not yet been informed at what hour the armistice becomes effective. This message will enlighten him. Will you deliver it for me?"

"Yes, sir," said Chester briefly.

"And me, Colonel, what am I to do?" demanded Hal.

"Oh, you, Major," laughed the colonel, "you accompany Major Crawford and see that my instructions are carried out."

"It shall be done, sir," said Hal.

The two lads left their colonel and hurried towards Major Lawrence's detachment, at the extreme front.

"Well," said Chester as they hurried along, "looks like our fighting days are over."

"It certainly does," Hal agreed, "but you never can tell, you know."

"True enough. It's as likely as not that one of us may fall yet before the war ends."

"I guess not," Hal said. "We've gone through four years of it now. I've begun to believe we bear charmed lives."

"It does seem so, but it only takes one bullet, in the proper place, to settle that argument."

"That's right enough," Hal admitted, "but I've a feeling that we shall both live to spend many pleasant days in the United States."

"Oh, I'm not thinking of getting killed," Chester declared. "I'm just remarking on what is possible."

"Anything is possible at this age of the world," said Hal sententiously.

The lads now had come within sight of Major Lawrence's detachment. Bullets were flying thick and fast among the American troops, who had sought the shelter of long lines of funk holes, until recently in possession of the enemy. Chester delivered his message at once.

"Well," said Major Lawrence, "I guess we'll be about here when the war ends. Believe me, I am not going to order an advance when I know the war's about over, and I don't think the enemy will."

"They seem bent on doing all the mischief they can while they have a chance, Major," said Hal.

"So it seems; but I've decided to squat here in these holes and let them fight to their heart's content. Of course, should they rush us, we'll give them more than they bargained for; but I'm not going to attack myself."

"I don't blame you, Major," declared Chester. "But now I've a favor to ask."

"Consider it granted, sir," replied Major Lawrence.

"We have been assigned to no particular duty," Chester continued, "and we should be glad if you would allow us to pass the remaining hours of the war with you, sir."

"I shall be glad to have you with me," was the reply.

This is the reason, then, that Hal and Chester found themselves again in the front lines, a scant hour before the armistice ending the greatest war of history went into effect.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE LAST ZERO

The boche shells were now breaking in the hollow below the spot where Hal and Chester found themselves. Hal was congratulating himself on having a lucky spot in which to witness the closing minutes of the war, when, just on his right, a geyser of earth and rock was hurled up by a mighty explosion.

His first thought was of Chester. But after he had successfully dodged several falling stones, he peered over the edge of his funk hole and there was Chester, grinning broadly.

"How are they coming, Chester?" he called out.

"Closer than I like," Chester answered. "But here is an old friend of yours and I am afraid he has got his."

"Who is he?" demanded Hal.

"Sergeant Bowers."

"What? Bowers here?"

"Yes, but he's rolling on the ground right now, and I can't get to him. He seems to be about all in."

"Is he dead?" Hal asked.

Chester listened for a moment to make sure that a shell wasn't headed his way, then he took another peep.

"No, I think he is still alive, but is badly wounded."

Hal and Chester, braving the enemy fire, both crawled out of their funk holes and started for Sergeant Bowers, who had fallen just outside the funk hole in which he had sought refuge. But they were back quicker than a man could say "Jack Robinson."

A shell can be heard coming when it is passing to one side or overhead, but when it is headed straight toward you its cry is heard usually after the explosion, or is drowned out by the explosion. Common mathematics will show why. Air conditions also help. If the wind is traveling with the shell, one stands a fair chance of hitting the earth before the shell explodes. But if the wind is traveling against the shell, one hasn't much salvation.

In this case the wind was in the lads' favor. As they both heard the shell coming, they moved like lightning. It is surprising sometimes how fast one can move at a time like this.

In taking their places in the funk holes, which had been dug by the Germans when they were in possession of that piece of ground, Hal and Chester had calculated on just one thing—having time to fit themselves into the holes before shells should find them. And now that both found it necessary to make a quick fit of it, they were disgusted with their laziness in not spending enough energy and taking the chances necessary to making them big enough in the first place.

"Why didn't I?"

That was the question each lad asked himself a dozen times during the brief space of a moment they lay there half exposed and waiting for that which they feared.

It broke at last. The earth boiled, up, a mass of clods and stones, only a few yards in front of Hal. A piece of shell fragment struck his helmet a glancing blow; another buried itself in the earth only a few inches from his nose.

Hal crawled out of his funk hole and reinserted himself, making sure this time that he was below the surface. By his watch it lacked still five minutes of 11 o'clock. Almost time for all this business to stop.

At intervals for several seconds, Boche shells came screaming in, exploding hither and yon.

"Gas! Gas!" came the startling cry down the line.

Chester crawled deliberately into his gas mask, for the bursts, which he recognized on the moment as being gas shells, had been too far away to cause them any immediate alarm.

There followed then a strange, unbelievable silence, as though the world had died. It lasted but a moment, for perhaps the space that a breath may be held. Again Hal glanced at his watch.

"Eleven o'clock!"

He uttered the words aloud.

Eleven o'clock. The armistice was now effective. Fighting should cease.

Came suddenly such an uproar of relief and jubilance, such a shrieking of claxons—gas claxons that shrieked now with pure joy—and such a shout from both lines that only men possessed of sheer happiness can utter.

Chester pulled off his gas mask and shouted with the rest. And even as he did so he caught a faint odor which he knew to be that of mustard gas. But nothing mattered now.

Hal and Chester piled out of their funk holes with the rest, waving their helmets and shouting at the top of their voices. Then, like a covey of quail scurrying from a hawk's shadow, they piled back again.

"Whizz—bang!"

Scarcely ten yards from Chester's hole a shell exploded.

"Wow!" exclaimed a voice. "Who said the war was over? Marshal Foch'll have to come out and tell me himself before I believe it."

Another brief silence. A 75 barked behind Hal and Chester. Then the battle seemed to start anew, one of the American batteries firing and then another; the contest seemed to be between two batteries of 75's.

Chester could never remember which battery fired last, but he heard, a few days later, that two second lieutenants of artillery were haled blushingly before a general and severely reprimanded for disregarding the rules of the armistice.

After the two batteries had ceased firing and the roar of the last cannon died out across the valley, there came a silence that was even more appalling than the first. It was something like the lull that follows a terrific thunderstorm, only this storm had been raging for nearly fifty-two months.

In the midst of this ghastly silence, a startling thing occurred. The sky line of the crest ahead of the American troops grew suddenly populous with dancing soldiers, and, down the slope, all the way to the barbed wire entanglements, straight for the Yankees, came the German troops.

For a moment there was confusion in the American ranks. It seemed that the enemy was launching his troops forward in a desperate charge. Yankee officers shouted hoarse commands. Gunners sprang to their batteries, and these were trained on the advancing foes.

But the excitement soon died out. No danger threatened.

The Germans came with outstretched hands, grins and souvenirs to trade for cigarettes, so well did they know the weakness of their foes.

But neither Hal nor Chester had time for the Germans. They were thinking of Sergeant Bowers, who still lay just beyond his funk hole, apparently badly wounded.

Hal hurried to his side. His face was chalky white, but his eyes were wide open. Chester also hurried to Sergeant Bowers' side. The sergeant recognized them immediately and greeted them with a faint smile. The lads smiled back at him.

"Is the war over?" he asked.

"It's all over, sergeant," Chester said, "and the Germans are licked," Hal explained. "Look at them out there—" and Chester waved his arm in the direction of his erstwhile enemies.

"That's good," said Sergeant Bowers. "Great sight, isn't it? It's tough though, to be killed on the last day of the war, and almost at the last minute."

But Sergeant Bowers did not die.

Tenderly Hal and Chester helped him back of the lines where he could receive proper medical attention. His wounds were dressed and within two hours the sergeant of marines announced that he was feeling as fit as ever.

"Nevertheless, you'd better lie quiet for several days," said Hal.

"I guess not," declared Sergeant Bowers. "Why should a big healthy man like me be idle when there is so much work to do. Of course, I'll admit I'm naturally lazy and all that, but I don't like to stand around and see the other fellows do all the work."

"All the same," said Chester, "I'll venture to say that when you get to bed you won't want to get up again in a hurry."

"As for that," said Sergeant Bowers, "I never do want to get up."

When night fell on the battlefield the clamor of the celebration waxed rather than waned. It seemed that there was no darkness. Rockets and a ceaseless fountain of star shells made the lines a streak of brilliancy across the face of France, while by the light of flares, the front with all its dancing, boasting, singing soldiers was as clearly visible as though the sun were still high in the heavens.

When morning dawned again, peace and quietness—the quietness that was strange and unbelievable—had transformed the front from a roaring, seething strip of madness into a rest camp. Rather, it had that appearance until a bugler broke the spell.

Hal was sleeping in the corner of what had once been a church. Chester was resting comfortably upon a pile of green camouflage a few feet away. Sergeant Bowers, despite his wounds, also slept near by.

"I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up—" said the bugler.

"You sure can't," said Chester. "Not me, anyway."

Then he turned over and went to sleep.

Hal did likewise, after one sleepy look at the sun.

Sergeant Bowers merely rolled over.

It was almost noon when the sergeant finally crawled out from under his blanket. Hal and Chester were standing nearby.

"What's the use of getting up?" Sergeant Bowers complained. "The war's over, ain't it?"

When the sergeant and the two lads finally emerged from the shattered church, the former soon discovered that life on the front line had become suddenly complicated by the presence of a young lieutenant.

"Where have you been all day?" the lieutenant demanded of Sergeant Bowers the moment he saw him.

"Sleeping," replied Sergeant Bowers briefly.

"Well," said the lieutenant, "you're on guard. You go on duty right now."

Sergeant Bowers bit of a chew of tobacco and strode off. But before he went he delivered this parting shot, addressed to Hal and Chester:

"This old armistice," said he sadly, "isn't what it's cracked up to be, is it?"

CHAPTER XXX

CONCLUSION

Thus ended the greatest war in the history of the world. True, no formal treaty of peace had been signed, and none was signed until months later. But fighting ceased on the western front and in virtually all quarters of the globe on the moment the armistice became effective.

In the days that followed, Hal and Chester did their full parts with the American troops. They were with the American army of occupation that marched to the west bank of the river Rhine soon after the armistice. As usual, they saw considerable excitement, but of their adventures with the Yankee troops in the German interior we have not space to speak here.

And yet there is one incident that is worthy of particular mention.

The American army had crossed the Rhine and the Thirty-second division, with which the lads now found themselves, was stationed in the little city of Frankfort, only a few miles within German territory.

What seemed strange in the minds of Hal and Chester, and other American officers as well, was the fact that the Americans were most cordially received in the German towns through which they passed. It is true that they were able to relieve the privation of some German families by distributing food to the needy, but it is probable they would have been welcomed anyhow.

It was because the allied staff believed the Americans would be more welcome than British or French troops that the Yankees were selected to form the bulk of the army of occupation. The presence of an Anglo-French force on German soil, it was realized, would arouse the resentment of the Germans, and this the allies were anxious to avoid.