“I could tell the French blue right away if I saw it,” he said. “Those men are wearing a sort of greenish-gray uniform, the same as we saw on the Germans up in Belgium when we were trying to make Antwerp. Yes, and they’ve got those odd spiked helmets on that only the Germans fancy.”
The alarming fact that they were now so very close to the oncoming invading army gave them all a new thrill. Even the peasant boy stared at the vision, and looked as though almost heart-broken; for he had doubtless heard terrible stories connected with that other raid through his beloved France, long before he was born, and, of course, he could only fear the worst.
As their road seemed to turn somewhat toward the south just there the boys determined to go on, trusting to luck to see them through. At the worst, if they did come in contact with any troop of raiding Uhlans, they could fall back on the fact of being Americans, and perhaps manage to pass muster.
Among themselves they talked it over as the boy continued to beat the horse and cause him to keep jogging along the winding road. It was soon decided that the moving stream of men they had glimpsed could not belong to the corps that was engaged so fiercely in battle with the Allies defending the approaches to Paris. They must be another section entirely, heading so as to attack the forts around Paris from the west. And it turned out later on just as they had figured, so that the boys could plume themselves on their sagacity.
Just a quarter of an hour afterward Giraffe uttered a cry.
“What’s this I see away over yonder, fellows?” he called out, pointing as he spoke. “Another army in motion and heading so as to come smack up against those chaps in the gray-green uniforms. But say, these troops are in the French blue. Bully for them, they are meaning to make it hot for the Kaiser when he tries to sneak into Paris by the back door. It’s true some of my folks did come from that same Rhine country a long while ago, but now I’m backing the under dog in the fight, and somehow my sympathies seem to be with poor France.”
“But see here, how about us?” ejaculated Bumpus. “Suppose those two armies get to smashing away at each other and with four boys caught between the lines? If that happens, wouldn’t we be apt to find ourselves in a pickle enough? I guess we’d better be looking around for a hiding place. And a deep cyclone cellar’d just about suit me right now.”
“We couldn’t go back if we wanted to,” announced Thad, decisively, “because the Germans must have swarmed across the road a few miles over there where we came from. And so far as I can see, there isn’t much chance of our hiding around here.”
The horse was showing positive signs of giving out. Indeed, the peasant boy had used his whip up in urging the beast on, and, moreover, he could hardly lift his own arm to ply it any longer.
Seeing this, Thad decided that the critical moment had come. They must abandon the wagon and most of their luggage, which latter happened to be exceedingly limited, for by degrees they had gotten rid of most of their things ere this.