"Yes, Freddy?"

"I'm afraid I've got us into a bit of a mess, Dave," he said. "To be truthful, we are lost. I really haven't the faintest where we are. You must think me a fine mug for this. I'm frightfully sorry, really."

"Wait a minute!" Dave cried out. "Here comes a car. It sounds like a truck. Gee, what a racket!"

A pair of headlights was rapidly approaching along the road that led off to the right. They bounced up and down because of the uneven surface, and the banging noise of the engine made Dave think of a threshing machine. On impulse he and Freddy Farmer moved out into the glow of the ambulance's lights and began waving their arms. The truck or car, or whatever it was, bore down upon them and finally came to a halt with the grinding and clashing of gears.

"Come on, Dave, we'll find out, now!" Freddy said and trotted into the twin beams of light.

Dave dropped into step at his side, and they had traveled but a few yards when a harsh voice suddenly stopped them in their tracks.

"Halt!"

The two boys stood motionless, their eyes blinking into the light. Dave heard Freddy Farmer catch his breath in a sharp gasp. He suddenly realized that for some unknown reason his own heart was pounding furiously, and there was a peculiar dryness in his throat. At that moment he heard hobnailed boots strike the surface of the road. The figure of a soldier came into the light. On his head was a bucket shaped helmet, and in his hands was a wicked looking portable machine gun. He moved forward in a cautious way, and then Dave was able to see his uniform. His heart seemed to turn to ice in his chest, and his hands suddenly felt very cold and damp.

He was looking straight at a German soldier!

CHAPTER FOUR

_Prisoners Of War!_

"Good Grief, a German!"

Freddy Farmer's whispered exclamation served to jerk Dave out of his stunned trance. He blinked and swallowed hard and tried to stop the pounding of his heart.

"Hey, there, we're lost!" he suddenly called out. "Where are we anyway?"

The advancing German soldier pulled up short and stopped. He stuck his head forward and stared hard. There was a sharp exclamation behind him and then a second figure came into the light. The second figure was a German infantry officer. He kept one hand on his holstered Luger automatic and came up to Dave and Freddy.

"You are English?" he asked in a heavy nasal voice. "What are you doing here? Ah, an ambulance, eh? So, you are trying to sneak back through our advanced lines? It is good that I have found you just in time. Keep your hands up, both of you! I will see if you have guns, yes!"

"We're not armed, Captain!" Dave exclaimed. "We're not soldiers. We're just lost."

"I am not a captain, I am a lieutenant!" the German snapped and searched Dave for a gun. "You will address me as such. Not soldiers, you tell me?

Then, why this ambulance? And why are you here?"

"As you were just told," Freddy Farmer spoke up in a calm voice, "because we are lost. Now, if you will be good enough to tell us the way to Courtrai we will be off."

The German officer snapped his head around.

"Ah, so _you_ are English, yes?" he demanded.

"And proud of it!" Freddy said stiffly. "And this chap, if you must know, is an American friend of mine. Now, will you tell us the way to Courtrai?"

The German said nothing for a moment or two. There was a look of disappointment on his sharp featured face. It was as though he was very sad he had not found a pistol or an automatic on either of them. He moved back a step and stood straddle legged with his bunched fists resting on his hips.

"American and English?" he finally muttered. "This is all very strange, very unusual. You say you don't know where you are?"

"That's right, Lieutenant," Dave said and choked back a hot retort.

"Where are we anyway? And what are you doing here? My gosh! Is this Germany?"

The German smiled and showed ugly teeth.

"It is now," he said. "But that is all you need to know. I think you have lied to me. Yes, I am sure of it. I will take you to the _Kommandant_. He will get you to talk, I'm sure. _Himmel!_ Our enemies send out little boys to spy on us! The grown men must be too afraid.

But, you cannot fool us with your tricks!"

"Tricks, nothing!" Dave blurted out in a burst of anger. "We told you the truth. I was on my way to join my father in London...."

"Don't waste your breath, Dave," Freddy Farmer said quietly. "I'm sure he wouldn't understand, anyway."

"Silence, you Englisher!" the German snarled and whirled on the boy.

"You will make no slurs at a German officer. Come! We will go to see the _Kommandant_ at once!"

"We'd better do as he orders, Freddy," Dave said swiftly. "After we've told our story to his commanding officer they'll let us go. They can't keep us very long. If they do, I'll appeal to the nearest American Consul. He'll straighten things out for us."

"So?" the German muttered and gave Dave a piercing look. "Well, we shall see. If you are spies it will go very hard with you, yes. Now, march back to the car in front of me."

The officer half turned his head and snapped something at the soldier who had been standing in back of him. The soldier immediately sprang into action. He hurried past and climbed into the front seat of the ambulance. Dave impulsively took hold of Freddy's arm again.

"Don't worry, Freddy!" he whispered. "Everything, will come out all right. You wait and see. Don't let these fellows even guess that we're worried."

"What's that?" the German suddenly thundered. "What's that you are saying to him?"

The officer had half drawn his Luger and the movement chilled Dave's heart. He forced himself, though, to look the German straight in the eye.

"I was simply telling him the American Consul would fix things up for us," he said evenly.

The German snorted.

"Perhaps," he growled. "We shall see."

Walking straight with their heads up and their shoulders back, the two boys permitted themselves to be herded back to the car. When they pa.s.sed beyond the glow of the headlights they were plunged into darkness and for a moment Dave could see nothing. Then his eyes became used to the change and he saw that the car was a combination car and truck. It was actually an armored troop transport. Steel sheets protected the back and the driver's seat, and instead of heavy duty tires on the rear wheels there were tractor treads instead so that the army vehicle could travel across country and through mud as well as along a paved road.

In the back were some fifteen or twenty German soldiers each armed with a small machine gun and completely fitted out for scouting work. They peered down at Dave and Freddy as the officer motioned them to get into the transport, but none of them spoke. They either did not understand English, or else they were too afraid of the officer to speak. And so Dave and Freddy climbed aboard in silence and sank down on the hard plank that served as a seat. The officer got in beside the driver and growled a short order.

The engine roared up, gears clanked and crashed, and the transport lunged forward. It traveled a few yards and swung off the road and around in the direction from which it had obviously come. That direction was to the east, and that caused Dave to swallow hard and press his knee against Freddy's. The pressure that was returned told him that the English boy had a good hold on himself, and wasn't going to do anything foolish.

Glad of that, Dave stared ahead over the shoulder of the driver at the road. At various points the pavement had been torn up by a bomb or by a sh.e.l.l and the transport's driver was forced to detour around such spots.

Presently, wrecked ammunition wagons, and light field artillery pieces were to be seen, strewn along the side of the road. They were all smashed almost beyond recognition, and close by them were the death stilled figures of Belgian soldiers, and refugees who had been unable to escape the swiftly advancing German hordes.

Suddenly the sound of airplane engines lifted Dave's eyes up to the skies. He could not see the planes, they were too high. However the pulsating beat of the engines told him they were Hitler's night bombers out on patrol. Impulsively he clenched his two fists and wished very much he was up there in a swift, deadly pursuit or fighter plane. He had taken flying lessons back home, and had even made his first solo. But he had not been granted his private pilot's license yet because of his age.

"But I'd like to be up there in a Curtis P-Forty!" he spoke aloud. "I bet I could do something, or at least try!"

His words stiffened Freddy Farmer at his side. The English boy leaned close.