“Do we give up the ship at the first storm, Thad?” he asked plaintively.
“We have to make a show of doing what they ordered, you know,” explained the pilot at the wheel; “but I noticed on that little map I bought in Mainz that there’s another good road leading to that Belgian border. We can try that and see what luck we have.”
“Was that it about a mile back, leading off to the right as we came along?” asked Allan, quickly, showing that he, too, had kept his eyes about him, as every wide-awake scout should at all times.
“Yes,” Thad told him.
“And you mean to take it, do you, Thad?” demanded Bumpus, oh! so eagerly.
“We can make the try, and see what happens,” he was told. “Of course, if every bridge and culvert on the road has its guard, we’ll not be apt to get very far before we’re hauled up again.”
“Well, let’s all hope that if that happens it’ll be a man without that iron jaw, and one who might listen to reason,” Giraffe ventured, for he was feeling badly over the utter failure of his attempted negotiations with the guard.
They rode on in silence for a short time, and then Allan cried:
“There’s your road ahead, Thad; and we’ve lost sight of the bridge long ago, so they couldn’t see us dodging into the same. There are some people coming along, but they’ll not notice what we’re doing.”
“I hope you haven’t changed your mind, Thad?” remarked Bumpus, anxiously.