"I see that you're running, too," said John.
"Yes," smiled Kempner. "I'm a man of peace, a painter, or rather I would be one, and as my heart is a little weak I'm not drawn for military service. I'm on my way to Munich, where I mean to study the galleries."
"I'm going to Munich, too," said John. "So we can travel together."
"Then if we expect to reach Munich we'd better jump out now. Quick!"
"What for?"
"It seems that this is the Austrian border, and trains are not crossing it now, owing to the mobilization. A German train has come to meet us. Look, most of the passengers have transferred already!"
John saw his uncle and Mr. Anson standing on the steps of the German train and looking about vainly for him. There had been no announcement of the change, and, annoyed, he ran down the corridor and sprang to the ground, closely followed by Kempner.
"Passporten! passporten!" shouted some one, putting a strong hand on his arm.
John saw his uncle and Mr. Anson going into the German train, evidently thinking that he was inside, and his alarm increased.
"Amerikanischer! Amerikanischer!" he said to the Austrian officer, who was holding his arm and demanding his passport. The officer shook his head and spoke voluble German. John did not understand it, but he knew that the man at such a time would insist upon seeing his passport. Kempner just behind him was in the same bad case.