That day was September 9th, and although we thought we were in Holland, we were not sure enough to come out and show ourselves.  So we lay low, and ate the green apples that we had found on a tree between the river and the canal the night before.  We slept a little, though too excited to sleep much.

Beside the thicket where we were hidden, a boy worked in a field with a fine team of horses, ploughing stubble.  We tried to listen to what he said to his team, to see if there was any change from the German “Burrrrrrsh,” but he was a silent youth, and so far as we could make out, said never a word all day.  So we could not prove it by him!

But the good horses gave us hope—­horses were scarce in Germany!

At dusk we started out again, and kept going straight west, for one fear still tormented us.  Our maps showed us that one part of Germany projects into Holland, and for this reason we kept straight west, to avoid all danger of running into it; for the uncomfortable thought would come that to escape from Germany and then walk into it again would make us feel foolish—­not to mention other emotions.

It seemed to be a fine country that we were going through, and the walking was easy, although we were not on a road.  I had been telling Ted that the first railway we came to would be a single-tracked one, with dirt ballast, and then we should be sure we were in Holland.  I had seen this railroad on the map, and knew it was a few miles from the border.  To me, this would be sufficient proof that we were safely out of Germany.

Soon we saw a fringe of houses ahead, and we thought we were coming near a canal, for we were in the country of canals now, and the houses are built on their banks.  There were lights in a few of the houses, for it was only about eleven o’clock, and some of the people were still up.  The houses looked to be rather good ones, and they were built in a row.  It was the backs of them we were approaching, which we did with extreme caution, for we had no desire to have some snarling dog discover us and give the alarm.

So intent were we, watching the houses for any sign of life, that we did not see what was just before us until we had walked up to it.  Then we saw—­

It was a railroad, single-tracked, with dirt ballast!

Without a word, Ted and I shook hands!  We were in Holland!

CHAPTER XXIII

OUT

Immediately we set out to find a road.  There would be no more skulking through fields for us.  We were free again, entitled to all the privileges of road and bridge.

We soon found a good wagon-road leading to a bridge over the canal.  Across the bridge we boldly went, caring nothing for the houses at our right and left, whose windows were lighted and whose dogs may have been awake for all we cared.  It seemed wonderful to be able to walk right in the middle of the road again!  Ted said he wanted to sing, but I advised him to curb the desire.  We were a little hazy as to the treatment accorded prisoners by a neutral country.