home, but I'd be back. Come on -- time for us to go. What are
you going to do, boy? Going over to Grenfel's, aren't you ?"

"Yes, father," said Harry.

"All right. Get home early. Good-night!"

A good many of the boys were already there when Dick and Harry
reached Grenfel's house. The troop -- the Forty-second, of London
-- was a comparatively small one, having only three patrols. But
nearly all of them were present, and the scout-master took them
out into his garden.

"I'm going to change the order a bit," he said, gravely. "I want
to do some talking, and then I expect to answer questions. Boys,
Germany has declared war on Russia. There are reports already of
fighting on the border between France and Germany. And there
seems to be an idea that the Germans are certain to strike at
France through Belgium. I may not be here very long -- I may have
to turn over the troop to another scoutmaster. So I want to have
a long talk to-night." There was a dismayed chorus.

"What? You going away, sir? Why?"

But Harry did not join. He saw the quiet blaze in John Grenfel's
eyes, and he thought he knew.

"I've volunteered for foreign service already," Grenfel explained.
"I saw a little fighting in the Boer war, you know. And I may be
useful. So I thought I'd get my application in directly. If I