“‘You are going further?’ questioned the officer.

“‘Yes, sir.  I have other orders to deliver.’

“‘You had better watch closely that you are not captured,’ warned the commander.  ’The country through which you go is full of Prussians, and they are ugly.  Be cautious.’

“Assuring the officer that he would use due caution, Henri went on his way, apparently without a care in the world.  He was a most innocent appearing boy and it would be keen eyes indeed that would suspect him of being other than what he appeared, an irresponsible child.

“Henri now began to see German uniforms on all sides.  They were increasing in numbers.

“‘Henri never will get through, this with his letter,’ grumbled the lad.  ‘I must act while there is yet time.’  Crouching down and watching the Prussians a few moments, he finally drew the remaining letter from his blouse; he read it carefully several times, read it until he had memorized every word of it.  Having done this, the child tore the letter in bits and, munching them thoroughly, calmly swallowed them with a great gulp.

“‘Ugh!’ he grunted, making a wry face.  ’That is not pleasant food, but if the Boches can read the letter now their eyes are sharp indeed.  Henri carries his knowledge in his stomach.  A queer place for knowledge, but a good place when there are Boches about.  Now I shall be going.’

“He did not get far.  The lad was halted shortly after leaving his cover.  Germans sprang up on all sides of him.  He saw that he had stumbled into a nest of them and that there was no escape.

“‘What would you of me?  I have done nothing,’ cried the boy when he was roughly dragged before an officer.  ’I go to my parents in yonder village.’

“‘Is it for that that you crawl along and hide yourself as a spy?’ demanded the officer sternly.

“‘I saw the soldiers and I was afraid,’ he whimpered.

“‘Take him away!’ ordered the officer.

“’Take me where?  You can see I have nothing.  I am but a poor peasant boy who could do no harm even if he would.’

“‘You are shamming.  You are a spy and you should be shot.  Search him!’ commanded the officer.

“They stripped the child, Henri, during the operation, weeping bitterly, but such tears as he shed were forced, yet they appeared real to the onlookers.  His clothing was very thoroughly searched, the soldiers even tearing out the lining of his blouse and ripping his necktie apart to make certain that no despatches were concealed in them.  Of course, they found nothing.

“‘You see, I have told the truth,’ he whimpered, now addressing the officer.  ‘Please let me go to my parents.’

“The officer laughed harshly.

“’Lock him up.  He is a fraud, and we shall yet find him to be such.  The French resort to many tricks.’