“And so we’ve come across to try and find Tom,” Jack went on to say, “though since he’s changed his name it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack; but we’ve managed to pick up a clue, and there’s a faint chance of our running across him before a great while.”
“Oh! I hope so, I hope so, Jack,” said the other, fervently. “Every time I shut my eyes I seem to see poor father’s face before me. The look of pain on it haunts me. I would give almost anything if only I could find Tom and take him back home with me. I believe it would give father new life. But what a small chance we’ve got to run across my brother in an army of half a million men, when we’re not even sure of the name he’s known by. He may have fallen long ago in one of those fierce drives the Germans made on the British lines.”
“Keep hoping for the best, Amos,” the Western boy told him, cheerily, for Jack was always seeing the silver lining in the cloud. “Something whispers to me that sooner or later we’re bound to succeed, and that when we start back across the Atlantic we’ll have your brother Tom in tow. But there’s one thing we’ve got to make sure of, and that is to keep clear of the Germans. Once we fall into their hands they’d send us into Germany as prisoners of war, no matter how we proved we were American boys. And that would ruin our game.”
“So far we’ve been helped in a lot of ways by the Allied officers,” remarked Amos, trying to pluck up fresh courage and hope. “My father happened to have good friends among the military people over in England, and they gave me a paper that has been worth a heap to us here. Only for that we’d never have been allowed to get as far as we have toward the firing line. But what are you staring so hard at, Jack?”
The other for answer drew his companion still further down as though he had made an unpleasant discovery that promised them fresh trouble. Accustomed to the great distances of the Western prairies, Jack’s eyes were like those of the eagle, and he could see objects that might have passed unheeded by others.
“There’s something moving over yonder where that low hill rises,” he hastened to inform Amos. “If you look close you can see a whole string of objects bobbing up and down as if on galloping horses. I think, Amos, they are the little pennons at the tip-end of Uhlan lances; and that a detachment of the rough-riding corps must be coming this way!”
“Then they’ll be pretty sure to head for this windmill as soon as they round the base of the hill,” exclaimed Amos, hurriedly, looking much concerned.
“It’s apt to draw them as the needle is attracted to the pole,” ventured the second boy. “In this country every place that affords a lookout is taken advantage of by friend and foe alike. Which means that since it’s too late now for us to skip out without being seen and chased, we’ll have to hide ourselves here and wait for the coast to clear. Come, there’s no time to lose, Amos!”