"Yes, I can get eggs," nodded the old man.

"As you've not seen the color of my money yet," Tom continued, "please take this on account."

At first the old peasant hung back from accepting the proffered gold coin, though at last he took it, remarking:

"I will admit that I am poor, and yet it seems a crime to accept money from an American."

Half an hour later their host returned, bringing two hot omelettes, dark bread, potatoes and the inevitable pot of coffee.

"It is with difficulty that we keep food hidden," he murmured, in a low voice. "A dozen times the Huns have appeared and have taken from us all the food they could find. But we still have flour, potatoes and coffee hidden where they cannot find them.

We shall hope to continue to exist until you Americans have helped drive the Hun from our land."

From the nearby road came the sound of moving trucks. The old man paused and shook his fist in the direction of the sound.

After he had served the breakfast he climbed upon a stool, putting his eyes to the hole in the sloping roof and peering toward the road.

"Ah, the vermin!" he hissed. "A regiment of their accursed infantry marching toward the front. Oh, that your men and ours might kill them all this day!"

"Give us time, and we'll do it," Tom promised unconcernedly.

After breakfast the two chums talked almost without stopping until it was time for luncheon. In the afternoon Tom stretched, then walked toward the bed, declaring:

"When one has no chance to exercise I believe sleep to be the next best thing, even extra sleep. I believe that I can sleep until supper time. And after that---perhaps it will be tonight, d.i.c.k, that we make our fantastic effort to place ourselves on the other side of the German battle front!"

"The sooner the better," cried d.i.c.k, "only provided that speed does not waste our chance to escape."

"If we must go down in defeat," yawned Reade, "I believe we may at least look for the satisfaction of carrying a few Huns with us. I believe I have forgotten to mention the fact that I have my automatic pistol with me. It's hidden, but I could show it to you."

"I'm glad you have it," murmured d.i.c.k, as he closed his eyes.

"I never before felt the desire to slay human beings, but since I've struck the French front I've had a constant desire to kill Huns!"

"To-night, then," said Reade drowsily, "we may find the chance both to kill Huns and get back to the French lines."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DASH TO GET BACK TO PERSHING

"After dark, by a whole hour!" whispered Reade, after waking, striking a match and looking at his wrist watch. "Hustle, d.i.c.k!"

Tom's next act was to light a candle. "Want supper?" he asked.

"I could eat it," Prescott replied. "But what's the use?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why waste time with eating when there's the slimmest chance to get away?" d.i.c.k continued.

"It may be hours before we can really put our plan into execution."

"Our plan?" repeated d.i.c.k. "What on earth did I have to do with making the plan? But, if you feel that we're not wasting time over a supper I'll admit that I am ready to eat."

So Reade summoned their host, as before.

"Is the night good and foggy?" Tom asked, when the aged peasant appeared.

"There is not a trace of fog, monsieur," was the reply. "Still, the sky is cloudy, and the night is dark."

"That's only second-best weather," grumbled Reade. "However, I'm impatient to have a try to-night. I think we will try for it. Can you help us?"

"Undoubtedly I can find out how clear the coast is," replied the old man. "I would be glad to do far more than that for you."

"If you can supply us with supper," Tom proposed, "and then find out the news, it will be a great service."

Later, while the chums ate, the old peasant went abroad. Tom and d.i.c.k were waiting impatiently until he returned.

"All is as well as it will be any night," the Frenchman reported, and added details.

"We'll try it, then," Reade decided, after glancing at Prescott, who nodded.

"And may you succeed!" cried the old peasant fervently. "And may you both come safely through the war, and have the good fortune to slay Huns and Huns and Huns!"

"Promise me, my good old friend, to use your axe only for chopping wood," d.i.c.k urged,

"And I will promise to think of you whenever I have the chance to destroy a Hun."

"It is a bargain, then!" cried their host.

"It will be kept, on my side," d.i.c.k rejoined gravely.

"And on mine, too," agreed the old man.

It was quiet abroad when the three stealthily left the house.

The Americans had wished to leave a word of cheer with the peasant's wife, but she had fallen asleep and they would not disturb her.

Through a wood and across fields their guide led the young Americans until they neared the spot they sought.

"From here on one will have to be cautious," suggested the Frenchman.

"You are about to cross a road, and then, on the other side, one comes to the aviation station."

"Then here is where you should leave us," d.i.c.k remarked considerately.

"Very likely we shall fail and be sent on to a prison camp, this time in irons. Perhaps we shall be shot. But we do not care to let an old man, and a Frenchman follow us to a death that he should not invite."

"I would go with you until I see you safely in sight of the station,"

objected the Frenchman.