nyone addressed him. They had not
ventured to bandage up his face, as if wounded; as he would have
naturally, in that case, had a military pass. As the best thing
they could think of, they had shoved a large lump of cotton into
one of his cheeks--which gave him the appearance of having a
swelled face--and had instructed him to frequently put his hand up
to it, as if in great pain. Tim had plenty of shrewdness, and acted
his part admirably.

They passed across the bridge of boats, without question; and into
the railway station, which is just opposite its end. Here soldiers
and other officials swarmed; but the three walked along carelessly,
the two boys chatting together in German, Tim walking with his hand
up to his face, and giving an occasional stamp of pain. He sat down
with Percy on a seat in the station, while Ralph went to the little
window where tickets were being delivered. There were a good many
people waiting and, when it came to Ralph's turn, and he put the
papers in at the window, and asked for three third-class tickets to
Wiesbaden, the clerk scarcely glanced at them; but handed the
tickets over, without a question.

They then went into the third-class waiting room, and sat down.
There were a good many peasants, and others there; and when the
doors opened for them to go on to the platform, and enter the
carriages, they saw it was hopeless to try and get a carriage to
themselves. They did, therefore, the best they could; putting Tim
next to the window, while Percy sat next to, and Ralph opposite to
him. The rest of the compartment was filled with country people.

"He seems in great pain," a good-natured peasant woman said, to
Ralph; as Tim rocked himself backwards and forwards, in his
anguish.

"Yes, he is very bad," Ralph said.

"Toothache?" asked the woman.

"Worse than that," Ralph said, gravely, "an abscess in the jaw. He
has just been to the hospital."

"Poor fellow!" the woman said. "Why does he not poultice it?

"I should advise you to poultice," she said, addressing Tim.

Tim gave a grunt--which might have meant anything--and Ralph said,
in a whisper:

"Don't talk to him. Poor uncle, he is so bad tempered, now, it puts
him in a rage if anyone speaks to him; because it hurts him so, to
answer. At ordinary times, he is very good tempered; but now, oh!"
and Ralph made a little pantomime, to express the extreme badness
of Tim's temper.

"You are not of Wiesbaden, are you?" the woman asked.