“All for this time, anyway,” answered the soldier.

The man looked at him narrowly.

“Well,” said the soldier, “what’s the matter?  Don’t I look like a Frenchman?”

“You’d deceive the devil himself,” answered the man with a short laugh.  “No one would ever think you were born in Bavaria.  Don’t forget and stick up the corners of your mustache, though.  That might give you away.  When do you think you can get over to see that fort?”

“I don’t know,” answered the soldier sharply, " but I’ll meet you here day after to-morrow at the same hour.  Auf Wiedersehen,” and he was gone.

After his departure, his companion lingered a moment, lit a cigarette, looked up at the sky, and, seeing that the shower was nearly over, strolled off in the opposite direction.

The children, looking after him, saw him come upon their basket near the brook, examine it carefully, and then look about in every direction as if searching for the owners.  Seeing no one, he gave it a kick and passed on.  They watched him, not daring to move until he turned toward the river and was out of sight.  Later they saw a boat come from the shelter of some bushes on the bank, and slip quietly down the stream with the man in it.

When they dared move once more they crawled out from under the straw, and Pierrette said, “Well, what do you think of that?”

“Think!” Pierre said, choking with wrath.  “I think he’s a miserable dog of a spy!  They are both spies!  And they are going to try to blow up the whole camp!  You come along with me.”  He seized Pierrette by the hand, and the two flew over the wet meadow toward the distant camp.

“Whatever should we do if we met that soldier?” gasped Pierrette, breathless with running and excitement.

“Look stupid,” said Pierre promptly.  “He didn’t see us, and he’d never dream we had seen him; but, by our blessed Saint Jeanne, this is where I get even with the Germans!  Let’s find Jim and Uncle Sam.”

Reveille was just sounding as they entered the camp and presented themselves at the door of Uncle Sam’s tent.  During the weeks that had elapsed since their arrival in France, Jim and Uncle Sam had acquired a fair working knowledge of the language, and, though it still remained a queer mixture of French and English, they and the children managed to understand each other very well.

“Bonjour, kids!” cried Uncle Sam in astonishment, when he saw the two children at the tent door.  “What on earth are you doing here?  Don’t you know visitors are not expected in camp at this hour?”

“Sh—­sh!” said Pierre, laying his finger on his lips.  “Nobody must see us!  We have important news!”

Uncle Sam sat up in bed.  “Why, I believe you have,” he said, looking attentively. at their pale faces.  “Just wait a minute while I get my clothes on.  Here, you—­Jim,” he added, poking a recumbent figure in the adjoining cot.  “Roll out!  It’s reveille!”