When the hour was up they had accomplished all the preliminaries looking to the start on foot across German territory. The owner of the boatyard doubtless wondered what they meant to do, for he asked a number of curious questions. Still he readily agreed to store their packages until such time as he received instructions how to ship the same to America, accompanied by a tidy little sum to pay his charges.
“If you asked my opinion,” remarked Giraffe, after they had left the place and started off, “I’d say that old chap didn’t wholly believe the story we told. Right now he may think we’re really a party of British Boy Scouts, over here in the land of the Kaiser to learn some of the garrison secrets, so in case of an invasion later on the beefeaters would know where the weak places in the defences are.”
“Do you think he would go to the trouble to inform some of the military authorities of his suspicions, and get them after us?” asked Bumpus, looking concerned, as well he might, for every delay promised to make his task of rejoining his ailing mother more difficult.
“Let’s hope not,” said Thad; “but these Germans certainly do have the greatest secret service ever known. They get their news in a thousand ways, I’ve heard; and this war is going to give the world the biggest surprise it ever had.”
When Thad made that remark he little knew what wonderful things were fated to come to light connected with the spy system of Germany, which would prove to be the most elaborate ever conceived by any nation, modern or otherwise.
“Next to Americans, they’re the most wonderful people under the sun!” boldly declared Giraffe, whose ancestors had lived along that same Rhine river, so that he could not help but feel very kindly toward the whole Teuton race.
There was Bumpus who was on the other side of the fence, for the Hawtrees came of good old English stock. Hence he and Giraffe often had friendly little tilts, each standing up for the land from which his ancestors sprang. That little remark about the “beefeaters” was meant as a sort of sly slur at Bumpus by the boy with the long neck, though for once it failed to arouse any comment.
Having been compelled to pass the city in order to find the boatyard to which they had been directed, the boys were on the northern side of Cologne at the time they began their long tramp. Little did they dream what amazing incidents were fated to fall to their portion before that journey came to an end. It would have thrilled them through and through could they have guessed even one-half of the hardships and the adventures that awaited them on their bold undertaking.
With small bundles thrown over their shoulders after the manner of scouts’ knapsacks, they left the river behind them and faced the west.
“We’ve enjoyed meeting you, Old Father Rhine,” said Giraffe, waving his hand toward the stream as though he looked on it as a very good friend, “and we’ll always keep a little corner of our memory sacred to this glorious trip; but we’ve got something to handle now that’s a heap more serious than just loafing in a pleasure boat, and eating three square meals a day.”