“Oh, say! you fellows make me tired,” growled the money lender’s son. And then, grabbing up the bundle which still lay in the roadway, he turned his back on the others and stalked off.
“Say, Dave, I think you ought to report him,” was Phil’s comment.
“Oh, let it go, Phil,” was the quick reply. “If I, as a lieutenant, reported Nat, he would claim that it was nothing but a personal matter between us. I don’t want to take advantage of my position when it comes to dealing with somebody I have known for years. I would rather fight it out on my own hook, so to speak.”
“Oh, I understand your feelings, Dave—I’d feel that way myself.”
“If you reported Nat he would make a great hullabaloo and say you were simply trying to show your authority,” said Roger. “Just the same, I am glad we caught him and came to the rescue of that boy. We want all of the inhabitants here to realize that we are their friends and intend to treat them with perfect fairness.”
The three chums soon reached the town, Nat Poole having gone in ahead of them. Dave made his purchases, and Roger and Phil got what they wanted, and then they walked around to see the sights. This town had been under bombardment several times, and while a portion of it was still in fairly good condition, many of the buildings had suffered, and at the end of one of the streets the demolition was complete.
“Just think of having lived here while those bombardments were going on!” was Dave’s comment, as they paused in front of one of the buildings, a rear corner of which was still standing.
“It must make the French people heart-sick to come back and find their homes nothing but heaps of rubbish.”
“And to think that the Germans carried off nearly everything of value,” put in Phil.
“Never mind, Phil, some day we’ll make them pay the whole bill,” returned Dave. “The only thing we can’t make good is the loss of life.”