Thad stood all this patiently for a little while. Allan was beginning to show signs of anger, while even gentle Bumpus fumed considerably.
“Can’t we do something to put a stopper on this thing, Thad?” finally demanded Allan, when a van deliberately blocked their passage and the man at the wheel thrust his bearded face out to leer back at them impudently.
For reply, Thad shouted out a few words in French, much to the surprise of both his comrades; at the same time he made a certain sign with his hand. Then, to the utter amazement of both Bumpus and the other boy, the driver of the van containing wounded heroes on the way to the Paris hospitals hurriedly drew his vehicle aside, even going so far as to hold up so as to allow of a free passage.
A minute later this was repeated, and again with surprising results. No wonder simple-minded Bumpus fairly gasped and stared hard at Thad.
“Say, since when did you practice for a magician, Thad?” he demanded, bent on learning the secret of that magical pass of the hand, that majestic signal that would have well become a king. “Why, look at them get out of our way, will you? Honestly, I believe you must have hypnotized the bunch, Thad.”
“And what’s that French phrase you’re shouting at the drivers?” pursued Allan. “I can only make out the word ‘Joffre’ in it all. Are you telling them we’ve got a dispatch for the big push at Headquarters and that perhaps the fate of the whole battle may depend on our getting it to him in a hurry?”
“You’ve guessed it, Allan,” admitted Thad; “for that is just what it means. And you can see how those patriotic drivers understand. They no longer see in us three happy-go-lucky schoolboys from across the Channel, poking our noses where we hadn’t ought to be, and interfering with men’s work. Why, I feel like taking off my hat to those chaps after seeing how they give us the road now.”
“It works like magic, for a fact,” said Allan, looking happy once more; “but how did you get on to it, Thad?”
“Our friend, the American surgeon, told me what to say, and how to give that signal with my hand,” came the reply. “He realized that we’d have lots of trouble getting along this congested road. I think the officer who was so badly smashed must have passed it on to the doctor.”
“Well, keep it going then, please,” Bumpus pleaded, “because it seems to save us heaps and heaps of bother.”