They retraced their steps.  For an hour and more they waited, but Uncle John failed to put in an appearance.  And all the time, from ahead, came the dull roar of battle.

“Well, what shall we do?” asked Chester at length.

Hal shrugged his shoulders.

“Guess your peaceful Uncle John has gone on to the front,” he said.  “We may as well do the same.  He’ll turn up sooner or later.”

Chester was struck with a sudden idea.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed.

“What’s the matter now?” demanded Hal, eyeing his chum in some surprise.

“I was just thinking,” said Chester.  “Say, let’s see if we can’t find a couple of spare uniforms around here.”

“H-m-m,” muttered Hal, who knew what Chester meant.  “Maybe we shouldn’t do anything like that.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” agreed Chester, “but there is no one here to tell us not to.  Come on.”

Hal followed him.

They looked into several tents, but their search met with no success, but in the sixth tent they were more fortunate.  Chester, rummaging around in a corner, produced a lieutenant’s uniform.

“Looks like it might fit,” he said.  “I’ll try it on.”

He did.

“Fits well enough,” he said.

“All right,” said Hal.  “But where is mine?”

“Oh, we’ll find you one, all right,” said Chester.

And, after half an hour’s further search, they did—­a second lieutenant’s uniform.  Hal donned it hurriedly.

“Might as well hunt up our horses,” he said.

“Ours?” queried Chester.

“Well, mine and Uncle John’s, or anybody else’s, for that matter.  It’s a long walk to the front.”

They were fortunate enough to find two mounts without much trouble, and, leaping to the saddles, they rode forward.

“Got a gun?” asked Chester.

“No,” replied Hal.  “Have you?”

“No such luck.  Maybe we can find one further on.”

This hope was realized.

As they rode forward the sights of battle became evident.  Here and there were fallen men, some dead and some dying, struck down by the long-range artillery of the Austrians.  Red Cross nurses and physicians were busy attending to the wounded.

Hal leaped to the ground, and from the fingers of a dead officer took a revolver.  A second he removed from his holster.  Then he unstrapped the officer’s sword belt and put it on himself.

“Well, I’m fixed,” he said, leaning down and producing the unfortunate officer’s supply of ammunition.

“My turn next,” said Chester.

Half a mile further along he relieved a second fallen officer of his sword, revolvers and ammunition.

“Now,” said he, “we are ready to go into battle?”

“We’re ready,” agreed Hal, “but we have no business there.”

“Well, we won’t do any fighting unless we have to,” said Chester, “but we’ll go as far to the front as we can.”