Thad was wise enough to foresee such a contingency. He kept on his own side, but at the same time slowed up, waving his hand in a way that could have only one meaning, and that a desire for information.
The first van went booming past, with the man calling something which none of them could begin to understand, what with all the noise. A second met with no better success. Thad now rested his hopes on the man who had the wagon and the team.
He was using his whip vigorously, so that his steaming horses kept on a mad gallop. Upon seeing Thad making motions, however, the man managed to check his team somewhat, his desire to be accommodating overcoming the mad impulse that called for speed.
Thad shouted something at him, and again his comrades caught that magic name of Joffre. It must have reached its mark, for the driver in return bawled as he went by them, and even turned to point excitedly in his rear.
Then he too drifted along down the road. There were no other vehicles in sight; the four chums had the thoroughfare to themselves, to all appearances.
“What did he say, Thad?” demanded Giraffe, immediately.
“I only caught a part of it,” replied the other, soberly; “but I think he was trying to tell us that the road a mile or more ahead was impassable for any vehicle, being under the fire of the Germans. I reckon those drivers know of another way around, a heap longer, of course, but safer.”
“And will we too turn back then, Thad?” asked Bumpus.
“What do you say, Allan; for I know already how Giraffe would answer if I asked him?” the leader demanded.
“It would mean considerable risk, if those men didn’t dare try it,” commenced Allan, as though weighing every word first before uttering it; “but time is worth something to us right now. Besides, when we strike that sector that is under fire the German batteries may have changed their range entirely, swinging around again. We might go on further, and see if we dare take the chances.”