surroundings, and some hours afterwards an orderly appeared at the door, shouting:

"All out, men; form in ranks."

"I suppose we shall have to get out, too," said Alfred.

"Why, no; this can't be Paris," replied Ralph.

"I know bally well it isn't," said a voice.

That settled it; tired and sleepy they swung off the running board, and looked at the long lines forming at the side of the train.

"Do you know where we are?" asked Ralph, addressing a soldier at his side.

"Don't know, my boy; we've had a steady run, though, for about three hours," was the reply.

"We are east of St. Quentin; we passed through the city half an hour ago; this isn't much of a hill we are on, but the Germans and French[Pg 58] fought a battle on this very spot in the campaign of 1870-1," said an officer.

[Pg 58]

Alfred saluted the officer, and asked: "How far are we from Paris, sir?"

"I think it must be fully a hundred miles," was the reply.

The men were ordered to line up, and soon the order came to march. As the boys had no other place to go, and the train was even then backing toward the city, they marched alongside of the column. The tramp was across open fields for a half-mile, where a road was sighted, but it was lined with troops, and heavy artillery, going eastwardly.

The column continued on, parallel with the road. It was dry, dusty and warm. There was a hum of sounds, and occasionally a boom or two, which the boys recognized from their previous experiences. The most emphatic voices were those of the drivers, who were piloting the horses drawing the artillery and caissons. An hour's march brought them to a small stream, which was crossed without waiting for boats or hunting for bridges, as it was easily waded.

Across the stream they ascended an elevation, at the crest of which was a line of soldiers busily at work with spades and pick-axes. Trenches were being formed. They were cheered by the workers, but there was no halting. On 

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