“Capitaine Dobay,” M. Blanc said, “I suppose no one knows how long the Germans will hold out.”
“I’m afraid not,” replied Captain Dobie.
There was a second shaking of hands, and Victor and M. Blanc left.
André’s mind turned anxiously to the tale of heavy fighting which was moving toward St. Sauveur le Vicomte and his family there. He felt more cut off from them than ever, now that he knew they were surrounded by such desperate enemies.
“Has anybody found that German pilot yet?” he asked Captain Dobie.
“No sign of him,” the captain replied. “Now, after breakfast, I have a job for Slim. And I think you and your dog could go along.”
Half an hour later, André was telling a delighted Patchou, “They think it’s safe now, for you to come out with me. But there’s still a war on, so behave yourself.”
The cows, he found, had again been milked by the American farmer-soldiers, and again most of the milk had vanished. The other barn chores had also been neatly done.
He heard soft sounds in the loft over the cow barn, and crept up the stairs to investigate.
A dozen or more soldiers from the night patrol were sleeping heavily in the sweet hay. Full of good Gagnon milk, André thought with pleasure.