"Honest, Rob, I never knew what I was missing when I said toasted frogs' legs would do for Frenchmen, but none for Merritt Crawford," and, while making this abject confession, the speaker allowed a look of sublime content to possess his features, such as would remove any lingering doubt concerning his sincerity.

"How about you, Tubby?" asked the master of ceremonies.

Tubby had been savagely tearing at his first helping. His eyes were glued on the various sticks under his charge, at the ends of which the rear portions of as many frogs were dangling, and turning a delicious brown under the influence of the heat.

Then Tubby was seen to heave a sigh.

"To think that there are only six more apiece!" he said in a most solemn tone. But the others laughed softly, because they knew any loud merriment, under such peculiar conditions, was hardly safe.

"That settles one thing," remarked Rob. "There's going to be a marked reduction in the profits of this particular frog-raiser this season, if Tubby has to stay here long."

Tubby was already commencing on his second batch. He could not waste time in talking when his appetite had been excited to a feverish pitch by the first bite of tender and succulent meat.

"Only thing I kick about," he presently mumbled, throwing away the slender bones which he had picked clean, "is that they go so quick. Why, you hardly get started before you're at the end."

"That's the way with nearly all good things," Merritt informed him. "Just as soon as they become so numerous that you can have all you want, somehow it seems as if the craving leaves you."

"Yes, I guess that's about it," admitted Tubby, talking only because the next batch of provender was not quite ready for disposal. "Anyhow, I've seen my mother just dote on a horrible little cucumber that dad brought home in January, paying about twenty cents for the same, and, when we have bushels of splendid ones in our own garden, why, nobody cares to eat them."

The little feast continued until everybody had cleaned up their mess. Tubby was disconsolate because the supply was so limited and the demand so great.

"How foolish we were not to double our catch," he said several times, "for there wouldn't have been any trouble about doing the same. One thing I've settled in my mind, I want to tell you."

"Well, go on, then, and explain," urged Merritt.

"I'll have one next summer, see if I don't," asserted Tubby.

"What—a feast of frogs' legs?" chuckled the other scout.

"Me? Only one show at the same? Well, when I like a thing, I rave over it. I want it every day. I mean to have a frog hatchery, and a pond where I can raise 'em by the million!"

"Listen to him, will you, Rob?" exclaimed Merritt, pretending to be horrified. "If ever there was a case where eyes were bigger than a stomach, it's right here. Millions of them, Tubby wants now; seven is only a flea-bite to him."

"Oh! shucks! don't make me out a hog!" remonstrated Tubby. "I didn't mean I expected to devour the whole lot. Why, can't you see there's good money in raising frogs? I'm going to get the figures, and find out just what the ratio of increase might reach. And my folks have got a dandy marsh on the old farm back near Huntington that we own. Rob, I thank you for opening my eyes to this grand opportunity. I expect it will be the turning point of my life yet."

They were used to hearing Tubby talk like this. He often became inspired with ambition, but, as time went on, the spirit died out, and something new took its place.

"You're letting the little fire die out, I notice, Rob," Merritt observed.

"Why, yes; we have no further use for it," he was told, "and there's always a small chance that some soldier would be sent this way on an errand, when he might get a whiff of the smoke, and take a notion to investigate. For one I'm not hankering to be sent a prisoner of war to some detention camp on the Rhine."

"And I'd feel pretty bad if my mission over here turned out a fizzle," said Merritt, "because my heart is set on getting that paper for Grandfather Crawford."

"I'm going to propose," Tubby projected, as though he could not tear his thoughts away from the one fascinating subject as long as the taste of his remarkable feast was still on his lips, "that we put in a couple of hours' more work getting a supply of these bouncing big frogs. If the Germans stay right there the rest of the day we want to lay in some provisions; and our choice is limited, you know, to this one thing."

"Of course we could do that," Rob informed him, "in case it was absolutely necessary; but I've got a hunch that there's going to be a movement of that army before sundown. If that happens, we can get away from here, and find some one to cook us a meal."

"Then you must have noticed signs that told they were beginning to get ready to go?" suggested Merritt.

"Which was just what I did," replied Rob. "I can hear certain sounds that tell me they have received the order they were expecting, and are breaking camp."

As all of them were anxious to learn whether this glorious possibility could be really true or not, they once more made their way back to the spot where their former vigil had taken place.

"Why, the whole army is in motion, seems like!" ejaculated Tubby.

"And a wonderful sight it is, at that," added Merritt. "They can say what they please about these German soldiers—and the Belgians feel they've got a right to call them all sorts of hard names, as barbarians and the like; but there never was such remarkable discipline in the history of the world. The huge army is like one vast machine. Men count only as necessary cogs. When one goes another takes its place, and the engine grinds on."

They crouched there and watched every operation from a safe distance. It seemed as though there was a never-ending procession of gray-coated figures, most of them with the spiked helmets on their heads, marching away in columns toward the southwest. Then came batteries of quick-firing guns, and heavier field pieces. The clattering of accouterments, the neighing of horses, and the hoarse singing of various regiments—all these things came floating on the breeze to the ears of the three lads, as they lay there in the afternoon sunshine and watched.

"They seem particularly fond of certain tunes," remarked Tubby, "and I know one is the German national air, 'The Watch on the Rhine,' because we've sung it many a time in the school at Hampton. What's that other they roar out, Rob?"

"I think it's a popular patriotic German air, called Deutschland ueber Alles, which means, of course, 'Germany Over All'," Rob obligingly replied.

"Oh! well, every country's sons believe they ought to have the first place in the sun; and I reckon we Americans have done a heap of boasting that way," Merritt remarked, which seemed to be about what Tubby thought, too.

So they lay there until the camp was entirely deserted. Never would those three scouts forget the spectacle to which they had been treated that day.

It was now along toward the middle of the afternoon. Far off in the distance somewhere, an action was certainly going on, for the grumble of heavy cannonading came almost constantly to their ears.

"Chances are," said Rob, as they prepared to vacate their refuge and once more push onward, "there's a fierce battle in progress, and this corps has received orders to get on the firing line. That would account for the way the troops were singing. Their business is to fight, and most of them are only happy when they can smell burnt powder, hear the crash of bursting shrapnel, and the heavy boom of big shells."

"We've seen one battle," observed Tubby with a shudder, "and for myself I'm not hankering after a second experience."

"I suppose in time we'd get used to such terrible things," Rob pursued in a reflective way, "for even the fellow who nearly swoons away in his first fight, they say, becomes a regular fire-eater after a while; but, so far as I'm concerned, I'll be a happy boy when I see good old peaceful Long Island again, with its sandy beaches, and the familiar things we love."

"We all will, Rob," remarked Tubby fervently, a yearning expression coming over his rosy face, as in imagination he again saw the home folks, and sat down to a table that fairly groaned with the good things he doted on.

"Yes, after I've carried out my mission I'll be just as glad to start back as either of you fellows," Merritt assured them.

The last of the Germans had disappeared from view when the boys started out. Rob was looking a bit serious, and the other noticed that he kept turning his eyes off toward the right, for it was in that direction the great host had gone.

"You don't expect they will turn back and give us trouble, do you, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing this frequent look.

"No; it isn't that," he was told, "but I'm wondering what a certain movement that I happened to notice could mean."

"Tell us about it, won't you, Rob?" Tubby implored. "It can't be that we have to take the same road that army marched away along, because we're heading in just the other quarter."

Before Rob could commence with his explanation they heard the sound of what appeared to be an automobile behind them. At the time they chanced to be at the foot of a slight elevation, which rose for perhaps twenty feet in a gradual ascent.

"Gingersnaps and popguns! Look what's bearing down on us, will you?" gasped Tubby.

"It's an armored automobile, as sure as anything!" added Merritt, "just like that car we saw in Antwerp, you know. Yes, I can see the muzzle of the deadly Maxim gun that's back of that metal shield. Rob, it's heading straight at us. What if they take us for Germans, and open fire?"

"Oh! for goodness' sake, let's wave a white flag to keep them from mowing us down like wheat!" exclaimed Tubby, commencing to fumble in his pocket.

"Hold up your hands to show that we have no arms!" ordered Rob, abruptly. "They are Belgians, and perhaps the same daring fellows we saw come into Antwerp with all sorts of spoils to show they had made a raid, and shot down their regular allotment of the enemy. Yes, wave the white bag, if you want, Tubby; we don't mean to take any chances."

"It's a hard thing to be shot down, and then have some one say they're sorry, and that they didn't know the gun was loaded," remarked Merritt.

The armored car slowed down as it approached. Those vigilant Belgians aboard were doubtless observing the three figures in khaki closely. Already they must have discovered that they were Boy Scouts. Possibly they more than half expected to find they were Belgian scouts, for such boys were being used as dispatch bearers all over the war zone.

"We are friends!" called out Rob, "American boys, who belong to the scouts over in our country, you understand? We have nothing to do with the war. Do any of you speak English? I can talk in French a little, if it's necessary."

The three Belgian soldiers laughed at that. Plainly they had been at a loss to place these three lads.

"I happen to be able to talk English very good," one of them called out, as the car stopped, "and we are glad to meet you. Americans are good friends of ours."

"Listen," said Rob impressively, "if you keep on the road you expect to take, so as to follow the German army corps, you will fall into an ambush inside of three minutes."