“If there’s a German spy on board he’ll stand a fat chance if they find him,” said Bob, as he and his chums started off on their leave.
The three boys headed at once for a restaurant, for the emergency rations which Bob had, somehow, managed to secure had long since lost their effects. And, for a wonder, Ned and Jerry did not twit their stout companion with being over-zealous in his desire for food. They wanted it as much as he did.
Moreover, they went to the restaurant where the pretty Marie waited on one of the tables. Bob had discovered this “life-saving station” in the midst of his wanderings about Brest, and after some persuasion on the part of his chums had let them into the secret of it. Thereafter they spent much of their leave-time in this place. Now again they headed for it.
And Marie was there. She welcomed the boys with a smile. With smiles, in fact; for though Bob claimed it as his right to bask in them to the exclusion of all others, Marie, in reality, smiled impartially on her “three musketeers.”
“Back so soon?” she asked, with her fascinating accent and pronunciation.
“Yes. Couldn’t stay away from you, ma’m’sell,” returned Bob, trying to catch Marie’s eyes in a glance that meant more than words.
“What’s that? What’s she got to sell?” asked Ned, winking at Jerry.
“Oh, cut it out! That’s an old one,” replied Bob. “I can speak as good French as you.”
“Better, mon ami, much better!” laughed Jerry. “Now you two old roosters stop kidding and get down to business. We have only three hours’ shore leave, so let’s make the most of it. What have you to eat, Marie?”
“Now you’re talking!” commented Ned. “Bob can live on love if he likes, as for me, give me——”