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Taking a hasty look all around, the two boys quickly discovered several things that held their interest.

“Amos,” said Jack, gravely, “you were wondering what had become of the Germans who defended this place against all opposition. If you will look down there where that willow tree grows alongside the brook you’ll understand.”

“Fresh-made graves, sure enough, Jack!” exclaimed the other, with a quick intake of his breath. “Like as not they held out till the last man went under. And some of their comrades passing this way stopped long enough to cover the brave fellows with two feet of earth. That’s about all a soldier can expect these days.”

“I can guess what’s in your mind when you sigh that way, Amos. You’re wondering whether your brother Tom is still alive, or has found a grave like hundreds of thousands of others in this terrible war.”

“We’ve reason to believe he changed his name and joined the British forces, not caring much whether he survived or perished,” said Amos, with a look of pain on his young face. “You know he always was a reckless fellow. He is nearly ten years older than I. Father was very strict, and couldn’t understand that high-spirited Tom was one of those who could be led, but never driven. Then came that awful accusation—oh! it makes me shiver to think of that time.”