"Good night " exclaimed a lad of about eighteen peering from the window in a railway coach. "This train's running on a regular lake " "What's that, Jimmie?" asked a companion approaching the first speaker. "Are we on a ferry? I still feel the wheels hit the rail joints." "Oh, yes, now and again we crawl along a rail's length or two," admitted the boy, "but it's mighty slow work I'm getting tired " "What place is this, anyway?" inquired a third boy coming to the window. "It looks as if we're going out into the ocean " "We can't be headed for Holland at this rate " "We surely are " assured the one addressed as Jimmie. "I'll bet I can tell you what that is The Belgians cut their dikes and flooded the country to drive out the Germans. My dream book says that's it " A general laugh greeted this assertion. Moving about in the limits of the none too commodious compartment of a European railway carriage four boys dressed in the well-known khaki uniforms of the Boy Scouts of America endeavored to observe the scenery through the windows.