“I never saw the beat,” he told them, “how everybody wants to hold on to what little petrol they’ve got. I offered double price, but they shook their heads and as near as I could understand tried to tell me they needed every drop for their own use. Now that the war has broken out nobody knows what will happen. After chasing around till I was tired out, I made up my mind it was a case of the tow-line for us, or stay out here all night. I took the tow, and here we are.”
“How far away is the town you mention?” asked Thad.
“All of two miles,” he was told; “but it wasn’t the distance that kept me. I had to waste so much time trying to make them understand. Then one party would direct me to a certain house where I might buy some petrol. Result, half an hour wasted and not a thing gained.”
“Is there an inn in that town, Giraffe?” asked Bumpus, softly.
“Thinking about your grub, ain’t you, Bumpus?” chuckled the other; “but that’s all right. There’s an inn, and I told the landlord we might show up later on. He even promised to cook us some supper when we came, charging extra for the same, you understand, Bumpus. It was in front of that same inn I saw the soldiers.”
“Germans?” asked Allan, quickly.
“No, a Belgian battery of field guns that is heading for the fighting line,” the late messenger explained. “They came in with a whirl while I was there, and watered the horses dragging the guns at the trough in front of the inn. It made a pretty sight, let me tell you, for the moon was just rising. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”
“They didn’t offer to bother you, did they, Giraffe?” asked Bumpus.
“Sure they didn’t,” replied the other, scornfully. “Why, I soon found that one of the gunners could speak pretty good English, and I had quite a little talk fest with him while the horses were drinking their fill at that trough.”
“Did you pick up any information worth while, Giraffe?” asked Allan.