The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields

"I suppose half a loaf is better than no bread at all," complained Merritt with vivid recollections of the fine mounts he and his chums had sported on several occasions, notably when on the cattle ranch, and following Mexican war trails.

"But such a loaf!" sighed Tubby, as he ran his hand over the bony back of the nearest quadruped, and wondered whether so weak looking a horse could long survive under his rather heavy weight.

"They may turn out a heap better than they look," Rob told them. "Sometimes it's the bony horses that can hold the pace in a grueling journey. But, after all, it's a case of Hobson's choice with us; either these nags, or walk."

"Whew! better close the bargain then, Merritt; that is, if you think you can afford the price," Tubby hastened to say, for as may be easily understood, he was not very much in love with protracted walks, not having been built for a sprinter.

So Merritt bought four horses, and paid cash down for them, receiving a regular bill of sale from the dealer, to show they were his property. With them went old saddles and bridles, good enough for the purpose of the three scouts, but not of a type calculated to incite anyone to steal the same.

All that remained to be looked after now was that promised guide. If the good burgomaster of Antwerp kept his promise, they expected to find a native waiting at the hotel when they got back after their foray into the limited horse market.

And sure enough they found a swarthy Belgian there who said he had been engaged by the mayor to serve them. Merritt quickly made terms, for the guide, besides being able to converse in French and Flemish, could speak some English, and readily comprehended all that was said in that tongue; especially when the subject of a money contract came under consideration.

"There's nothing to detain us any longer, boys," remarked Merritt. "We have made up a little pack apiece which we'd like to take along. We travel light on this trip, you know; all but Tubby, and that's something he always gets left on. The balance of our duffle the proprietor of the hotel has promised to keep safely until we show up to claim it again."

"Small loss if we never see any of it again," Rob admitted. "At the same time we hope to come back this way after we've run that person down, and either recover the paper your grandfather wants, or learn that it's lost for good."

"That is," corrected Tubby, "we expect to see Antwerp again if the Germans don't gobble us up."

"I'd like to see them try it," remarked Merritt, with a significant look at the ample proportions of the fat chum. "They'd have their work cut out, as sure as you live, Tubby."

"Now, don't get personal again, Merritt," cautioned the other, holding up a warning forefinger, "but as there are heaps and heaps of queer things I'd like to poke into around this town, I certainly hope to visit it again."

Half an hour afterward, mounted on scrubby looking horses, which would have excited the derision of any respectable cowboy in the West, Rob and his two chums, accompanied by Anthony Wallenhout, the Belgian guide, passed out of the city, heading toward the east.

Before they had gone a sixth of a mile they found themselves stopped by a patrol of soldiers, led by a young lieutenant, who, it happened, could speak English.

"It is no use, messieurs," he told them, with a pleasant smile, but a determined shake of the head, "you must face the other way and go back. The enemy is in force in many places between Brussels and Antwerp, and severe fighting is going on wherever our brave army has thrown up entrenchments. Antwerp is the only safe place for any who speak English, these days."

CHAPTER IV.

THE DAY OF THE BOY SCOUT

"Now, wouldn't that jar you!" muttered Tubby, sprawled on the back of his horse very much after the manner of a great toad. "Here we hardly get started on our wonderful trip over the battlefields of Belgium before we're held up, and told to fade away. Huh! talk to me about luck, we seem to have lost our grip."

"Show him what you've got, Merritt," suggested Rob, who did not give up quite so easily, because of a sudden snag in the stream.

"Oh! why, yes, how about that passport the burgomaster wrote out for us himself? It ought to do the trick!" exclaimed Tubby, his sad look disappearing like a flash, and an expectant one appearing in its stead.

The officer scanned the paper which Merritt handed him.

"At a time like this the burgomaster himself is under military orders," he told the waiting boys, "and if it happened to be a matter of much importance I could not honor his request. It chances, however, that in this case there is nothing involved except your safety. And you seem to be willing to take the risk?"

"Yes, because we have a very important piece of business to carry out," Rob hastened to tell him, seeing which way the wind was blowing, and wishing to take advantage of the flood-tide. "It means a great deal to one of my friends if we can find a certain man. You will allow us to go on, then, I hope?"

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders in real French style as he handed the burgomaster's passport back.

"Yes, if you are that rash, young messieurs," he said. "We, of the Belgian army, can admire pluck. You certainly have my best wishes."

"Oh! thank you, lieutenant!" gushed Tubby, who was relieved to know that the enterprise was not fated to be condemned at the start.

Perhaps the time might come ere long when the same Tubby would be secretly lamenting over the fact that it had been given a free swing. But coming events do not always cast their shadows before; and just at that moment none of the venturesome scouts could so much as guess what awaited them in the disturbed country beyond.

They gave the obliging lieutenant a regular scout salute, which he returned in kind. The paper had informed him that Rob and his chums were members of the Boy Scout organization in America, so that the fact of their wearing khaki uniforms was easily understood.

"I hope we have as good luck in skipping past every obstacle we run up against," Merritt was saying, as they moved along the road leading from Antwerp in the direction of the Belgian capital.

"Oh! we mustn't expect to be always as fortunate as that," said Rob. "I believe in hoping for the best, and preparing for the worst. It's good policy all around."

"Something like we read the Pilgrim Fathers used to do in the good old days when they used to ride to church with the wife back of them," Tubby explained, "and every man carrying his gun along. Their motto was 'trust in the Lord; but keep your powder dry!'"

"That's the idea," agreed Rob. "And so far, in all our tramps and wanderings, we've managed to do our part fairly well."

"Let's hope this venture turns out as good," Tubby added, with a side glance toward Merritt, for, of course, it concerned him more than either of the others whether success or failure resulted from their trip abroad.

That was only a beginning, for they were soon held up again. This time it came about that the soldier in charge of the detachment could not speak a word of English, so the guide had to exercise his ability in the line of a translator.

So well did he plead, and explain that they were all good friends of the burgomaster of Antwerp, that once again they were allowed to proceed.

Rob could easily see, however, that considerable doubt had arisen in the mind of the officer as to whether he should permit three boys to head into such a disturbed country as that lying beyond.

Like the lieutenant, he shrugged his shoulders, and dismissed the matter of responsibility from his mind. Indeed, there were too many other serious affairs to be considered just then to bother about a party of tourists fairly wild to say they had gazed upon actual battlefields; for, doubtless, he concluded this was the real reason why these venturesome boys elected to take chances in the war zone.

So long as they were not spies in the service of the enemy it was all right; only he wanted to warn them that they were apt to meet with some roving detachment of Germans at almost any time, since they were overrunning most of the country, appearing suddenly at villages, and demanding food and wine, or surprising isolated stations poorly guarded, so as to hold some important bridge for the coming of a column.

"Look what's coming whizzing along ahead there!" Tubby called out a short time after this encounter.

There was a little cloud of dust, and they could see that it was caused by someone mounted on a bicycle, who was bending down over the handlebars and working his feet very rapidly.

"Give him the road, fellows; he seems to be in a big hurry!" ordered Rob.

A minute later and the bicyclist shot by them. As he did so he straightened up in the saddle, and to their surprise gave them a regulation scout salute. Then he went tearing down the road in that cloud of dust.

"Did you see that?" cried Tubby. "Why, he was a Boy Scout as sure as anything! Now, what in the wide world was he in such a terrible hurry for? He acted like he might be late for his breakfast."

"Just now the Boy Scouts in Belgium have a good many other things to bother them besides missing an occasional meal," explained Rob. "They have been taken over by the military authorities and are doing splendid work in heaps of ways."

"Yes," added Merritt, as they rode on again, "I noticed a number of them while we were in Antwerp, and they seemed to be on the jump constantly. Every fellow had a badge on his left arm with the letters 'S. M.' on it. You remember, Rob, when you asked what they stood for, you were told the letters meant 'Service Militaire,' and showed that the boys were working for the Government."

"What d'ye reckon they find to do?" asked Tubby, deeply interested.

"They act as dispatch bearers," replied Rob, "ambulance orderlies, and aids to the police. They told me that in Brussels, now held by the Germans, some scouts daily herded the women who came for their regular ration issued by the Government, and kept order, too. Everybody takes them seriously. This is no time for play among the Boy Scouts of Belgium, when war has gripped their native land."

"When we were over in England," Merritt related, "I made it a point to find out how all the scouts there were being made use of. It gave me a mighty proud feeling to know that I was authorized to wear the uniform of the Eagle Patrol; for there never was a time in the history of the world when boys were of as much use as now."

"But there have been no battles on English soil, up to now, Merritt; tell me how the Boy Scouts of Great Britain could do things, then?" asked Tubby, who it seems could not have been bothering himself very much when his chums were making all these observations.

Merritt took a slip of paper from his pocket. They were riding slowly at the time, indeed at all times, for the horses did not seem desirous of making any particular speed.