Armed with passes signed by M. La Farge, to which their photographs were attached for purposes of identification, the boys started for Liege the next day. It was likely to prove an arduous and not unhazardous task that they had embarked upon. In the first place "spy fever" was at its height. Anyone not in uniform was liable to be held up and questioned, and if satisfactory explanations were not forthcoming, they were liable to very unpleasant consequences.
The word of any frightened peasant choosing to "denounce" anybody had led to riots and affrays in which men and women, suspected of espionage, had been rescued by troopers after being half beaten to death.
Above all, the boys were warned not to carry weapons of any kind, an injunction which they obeyed as they did all the rest of M. La Farge's admonitions. The train journey proved exasperating. Sometimes it would be halted for hours on a side track while trains, loaded with young-looking soldiers in a strange medley of gay Belgian uniforms, went by, the men cheering and singing. Again, much time was wasted by careful reconnaissances, for there was fear that bridges might have been dynamited or the right of way mined by the spies who were rife throughout the country.
A whole day passed thus, with the train creeping like a snail and continually stopping and starting. The roads at the side of the track were alive with peasants flocking to different centres from their lonely houses in the country. Some had their family possessions piled high in small carts drawn by dogs. Others carried what they had been able hastily to collect. It was another sad picture of war and the desolation it had brought on an inoffensive, industrious little country.
Several aeroplanes soared above the train, reconnoitering the country. At first the boys were nervous lest there might be a repetition of the bomb-dropping at Antwerp, but they were assured by the official on the train, who had examined their passes, that the aircraft were all friendly French and Belgian aeroplanes, after which they watched them with less uncomfortable feelings. As Bill put it:
"If we were at war and shouldering rifles for the dear old U. S. A., we'd take the chances of war with the rest of them, but being a neutral, there's no sense in throwing away our bright young lives," a sentiment to which Jack agreed heartily.