“What does it all mean?” he demanded in a subdued tone. “I see a name all France loves to honor, the man who this very day has saved our country. Do you mean to tell me you have been with General Joffre at the front, you boys?”
“We have entered his Headquarters, we have shaken hands with him, and he has thanked us for what we did. More than that he gave us this paper you can see, with his name at the bottom. Is it enough, M’sieu? Can we go on to Paris, where we have promised to turn this car over to the military authorities for their service?”
The bluff sergeant snatched off his cap.
“I salute you, comrades. Pardon the little inconvenience we have put you to. I envy you your good fortune. The road is open to you, and here is your wonderful paper. Would that I had such a proud heritage to hand down to my children.”
He stood at attention, with his hand upraised, as did the other soldiers, who while possibly not understanding everything, had heard enough to know that these wonderful American boys clad in those faded khaki uniforms had been in the company of the Great Commander.
Thad would have liked to converse longer with the man, for he saw that he must be an uncommon character, but time was too valuable to waste just then. Bumpus was grieving, and wanting to learn the truth as to the safety of his mother.
So Thad returned the soldier’s salute, and started up his engine, which had been suffered to stop working while they were detained, as gasolene or petrol was valuable. The last they saw of the sergeant he was waving his hand after them.
Bumpus drew a long breath.
“Another narrow escape!” he ventured, with a vein of relief in his voice.
“Oh! a miss is as good as a mile!” sang Giraffe. “Some way or other we seem to get around every difficulty that crops up. Sometimes it’s Thad’s knowledge of mechanics that saves us; and then again it turns out we have in our possession a little magical document that makes friends out of enemies.”