Perhaps there was food for thought in what the scout leader said. Giraffe may not have looked at matters in this light before. He became pensive as though revolving the theory over in his mind. Then he broke the short silence by saying:
“Here’s the fork of the road, Thad, and we can make a start in the other direction. After all the longest way around is sometimes the quickest way to the fire. But for one I’m glad we took the other. I’ve seen a real battle, and that’s talking some.”
There was good reason for Thad to be thoughtful. Troubles seemed to be multiplying as they proceeded. He was beginning to believe that young Belgian gunner with whom Giraffe had talked must have known what he was saying when he declared they had but one chance in three to get through the country that seemed to be a network of war trails, with hostile forces moving in every direction.
Secretly Thad was rapidly coming to the conclusion that they would show their wisdom by turning back and making for the Dutch border again. Once in Holland they could take a train for Rotterdam, and in some way secure a passage to Antwerp.
The more he considered this the better it looked to him. He was even sorry now he had not insisted on such a course at the time they were across the border. In fact he had given up mostly on account of the plea advanced by Bumpus, who after all was a poor one to make suggestions.
So Thad determined that should they meet with another backset, he was bound to put the matter before his chums in its true light. He knew he could count on the support of Allan, and also that Giraffe was open to conviction, even if a little set in his way.
For a few miles the car moved along the second road fairly well, though Thad was chagrined to find that he could not speed it up at all.
“What ails the old shebang, Thad?” demanded Giraffe, impatiently, when it crawled along with sundry groanings and complainings.
“It’s tired out, and creaks in the joints, don’t you know,” said Bumpus, with one of his old-time grins.
“But shucks! we’re on level ground right now, and she ought to spin along like fun!” mentioned Giraffe, with a snort of disgust. “Why, honest, I could keep out of your way walking, and never feel it. Talk to me about an ice-wagon, this goes it one better. It’s like those harvester engines we see creeping along the country roads up our way, slow but sure.”