The Uhlans had given up the pursuit. They evidently felt so chagrined over having failed to overhaul the fugitives that they would not even wait to exchange words with the Dutch soldiers, but wheeling their horses started back along the dusty road.
Of course the Dutch guard at once gathered around. Giraffe wondered whether his poor command of German would serve him in this case as well as it had done under other conditions. He was saved from this anxiety, however, for the one who seemed to be in command of the post immediately addressed them in fair English. He must have taken his cue from the way Giraffe shouted that word “American”; and then, now that they had come up, it was easy to see those miniature flags pinned on the lapels of the scouts’ khaki coats.
He proceeded to ask questions, and Thad was only too well pleased to answer. The passports were shown, and seemed to satisfy the soldiers. There would be hundreds, yes thousands of non-combatants presently seeking an asylum on the neutral soil of Holland; and those warm-hearted, hospitable people would show the world that they had no superiors when it came to holding out a helping hand to those in distress.
“We have Boy Scouts over here in Holland,” the non-commissioned officer proudly told them; “and they have won the respect of the whole Nation. Only here in Europe, you know, every boy has to look forward to serving the colors at some time in his life, so they all expect to be soldiers of the Queen later on.”
“I hope you will not think it necessary to detain us, sergeant?” Thad asked, after he felt sure they had made a good impression on the Dutch.
“Please stretch a point if you can,” pleaded Bumpus, “for I am wild to get over in Belgium where my poor sick mother is waiting for me.”
The soldier scratched his head as though a little puzzled.
“We would know what to do if you were enlisted men of any country at war,” he explained; “it would then be our duty to interne you until peace came. But orders have not been so clear about what to do if citizens of the United States choose to cross our country. I might hold you until you could communicate with your Minister, Dr. Van Dyke; or on the other hand I might just wash my hands of you, and let you go as you pleased.”
“Oh! that’s most kind of you, sir!” exclaimed Bumpus, possibly meaning to help the soldier choose the latter course; “all we want to do is to cross over this neck of Holland and enter Belgium, so we can go around the fighting line without getting caught in the mess. Thad, we’ll never forget this kindness, will we?”
It was really clever in Bumpus to exert this species of flattery in order to gain his end. Perhaps it did influence the Dutch sergeant more or less, for he smiled amiably and offered his hand to Bumpus.