ere and head south, to cross
the border line, and enter France," he was told.

"But not to go as far as Boulogne, eh, Rod?" questioned Hanky Panky.

"No, for that would take us out of our way," the other continued. "After
we get to Calais we will have to strike direct for Paris; that is unless
we learn that one of the numerous German armies has cut across the road,
blocking our way. In that event we will have to shape our plans over
again. But there's no use crossing a bridge until you come to it, so
don't let's worry."

He once more spoke to the little woman, whose face was now beaming with
gratitude. She seized the boy's hand and actually kissed it before Rod
had a chance to snatch it away. The act made him flush with confusion,
especially since Josh was chuckling in his clumsy way. But one thing was
sure, Jeanne considered their crossing her path at the time she needed a
friend more than ever before in all her life as a most fortunate thing.

So the boys walked away.

"Just to think what a wonderful change has come about inside of half an
hour," remarked the delighted Josh. "We had it all arranged for a little
spin down the coast, and then embarking at Boulogne for America. Now
we're planning to strike out to that region where a million German
soldiers are striking hard blows at the lines of the Allies, and meaning
to capture Paris. Why, I'm tickled half to death at the idea of seeing
some more thrilling pictures of the Great World War."

Josh and Hanky Panky could talk of little else during the balance of
that day. Rod seemed very quiet, and it was evident that he foresaw they
would have dangerous work laid out for them, which might try their
boldness as few things had ever done before.

"Listen," he told the others at one time, when they were discussing the
possibilities of the future; "perhaps neither of you happened to notice
a man with a French look who stood by a stoop further along the narrow
street, and kept watching us all the time I was talking to the woman.
Since then it's struck me that perhaps he may have been the other cousin
she spoke of, Jules Baggott, and that he was guessing how the wind lay
when he saw me read the paper, and watched her kiss my hand."

"Whoop!" ejaculated the impulsive Josh immediately, "that would mean
trouble with a big T, wouldn't it, Rod?"

"If he concluded that we were going to find her husband, providing Andre
hadn't already been killed in the fighting," Rod went on