“We’ll always remember this last incident as one of the pleasant episodes of our dash through Belgium,” remarked Thad, as they settled down again in their places for another start.
“One thing sure, Thad,” observed Giraffe, “that commander must have placed a lot of confidence in your simple word, because he wouldn’t know now whether we meant to keep on into Holland, or try again to push on after he’d forbidden it.”
“I guess he knows whatever a scout says he’ll do he tries to perform,” ventured Bumpus, proudly.
“Seven miles isn’t far, and with any sort of luck we ought to be over the line by noon,” remarked Allan.
“What’s the plan of campaign, then, Thad?” inquired Bumpus.
“We’ll try for a station on a railway,” he was told. “Over in Holland they’re not so apt to be given over wholly to the military forces, so we stand a chance to get passage to Rotterdam. The very first time our car goes back on us with the railroad close by it’s good-bye to this machine.”
“I really don’t think any of us will mourn much for the dinky trap,” Giraffe argued; “but then I suppose after a time when things get mellow in our minds well all take a lot of satisfaction in talking about this trip, and the old car will come in for its share of attention. Time heals many faults, you know.”
Now that the change in plans had really come about, they could feel a sort of satisfaction in reflecting that they had kept on to the very last. In fact, they had refused to give up until actually in the hands of the Uhlans, and compelled to promise on their honor as scouts that they would do as ordered.
“Oh! did you see that?” exclaimed Bumpus, starting them all to staring around in various directions; and then he condescended to go on, thus centering their attention to the one point—“it was ahead of us I saw it, boys.”
“Saw what, a boa constrictor from the menagerie?” demanded Giraffe, with the suspicion of a sneer in his voice.