Standing firmly upon their rights from first to last, the two lads never allowed anyone to impose upon them, although they were neither naturally pugnacious nor aggressive.  However, there had been more than one lumberjack who had found to his discomfort that he could not infringe upon their good nature, which was at all times apparent.

Both boys were large and sturdy, and the months spent in the lumber camps had given hardness to their muscles.  Their ever-readiness for a rough-and-tumble, the fact that neither had ever been known to dodge trouble—­although neither had ever sought it, and that where one was involved in danger there was sure to be found the other also—­had gained for them among the rough men of the lumber camp the nickname of “The Boy Allies,” a name which had followed them to their city home.

It was by this name that the boys were most endearingly known to their companions; and there was more than one small boy who owed his escape from older tormentors to the “Boy Allies’” idea of what was right and wrong, and to the power of their arms.

Both lads were keenly interested in history, so, in spite of the manner in which they tried to reassure Mrs. Paine and set her mind at rest, there is no cause for wonder in the fact that both were more concerned in the movement of troops and warships than in the efforts the other powers were making to prevent a general European war.

Staunch admirers of Napoleon and the French people, and, with a long line of descendants among the English, the sympathies of both were naturally with the Allies.  As Chester had said to Hal, when first rumors of the impending conflagration were heard: 

“It’s too bad we cannot take a hand in the fighting.  The war will be the greatest of all time, and both sides will need every man they can get capable of bearing arms.”

“You bet it’s too bad,” Hal had replied; “but we’re still in Europe, and you never can tell what will happen.  We may have to play a part in the affair whether we want to or not,” and here the conversation had ended, although such thoughts were still in the minds of both boys when they accompanied Mrs. Paine to their apartment to pack up, preparatory to their departure in the morning.

The packing completed, the lads announced their intention of walking out and learning the latest war news.

“We won’t be gone long, mother,” said Hal.

“Very well, son,” Mrs. Paine replied; “but, whatever you do, don’t get into any trouble.  However, I do not suppose there is any danger to be feared—­yet.”

For more than an hour the lads wandered about the streets, reading the war bulletins in front of the various newspaper offices, and listening to crowds of men discussing the latest reports, which became more grave every minute.

As the boys started on their return to their hotel, they heard a shout down a side street, followed immediately by more yells and cries; and then a voice rang out in English: