"Taking in provisions for the troops, I am," he said. "If you're going to Lunnon, you might as well ride along with me. Eh, Tommy?"
His question was addressed to a sleepy private, who was nodding on the seat beside the driver. He started now, and looked at Harry.
"All aboard!" he said, with a sleepy chuckle. "More the merrier, say I! Up all night–that's what I've been! Fine sort of war this is! Do I see any fightin'? I do not! I'm a bloomin' chaperone for cabbages and cauliflowers and turnips, bless their little hearts!"
Harry laughed. It was impossible not to do that. But he knew that if the soldier wanted fighting, fighting he would get before long. Harry could guess that regular troops–and this man was a regular–would not be kept in England as soon as territorials and volunteers in sufficient numbers had joined the colors. But meanwhile guards were necessary at home.
He told them, in exchange for the ride, of the explosion and the flood that had probably followed it.
"Bli'me!" said the soldier, surprised. "Think of that, now! What will they be up to next–those Germans? That's what I'd like to know! Coming over here to England and doing things like that! I'd have the law on 'em–that's what I'd do!"
Harry laughed. So blind to the real side of war were men who, at any moment, might find themselves face to face with the enemy!
[CHAPTER V–THE SILENT WIRE]
Probably Jack Young and Dick reached the vicarage just about the time that saw Harry getting into trouble with the police for speeding. The vicar was still up; he had a great habit of reading late. And he seemed considerably surprised to find that Jack was not upstairs in bed. At first he was inclined even to be angry, but he changed his mind when he saw Dick, and heard something of what had happened.
"Get your friend something to eat and I'll have them make a hot bath ready," said the vicar. "He looks as if he needed both!"