“Oxactly mine vish, too,” said Carl Stummer. “Put ve ton’t got eferyding in dis vorld vot ve like,” and he heaved a ponderous sigh.
As they moved along they passed several spots where the Russian outposts had had their camps, and one place where a battery had been located—probably the battery Albert and Ben had met on the road. But nobody was around—Russian, Chinese, or Japanese.
“It will take years for this country to recover from the war,” remarked Ben. “It seems a shame that such things have to be.”
“Sure an’ man’s a wild animal whin ye sthrip th’ skin of civilization from him,” came from Casey.
The Irish sharpshooter expected to reach camp by seven or eight o’clock in the evening, but when he came to a spot where two roads presented themselves, he paused, and scratched his head.
“Carl, which is the right road, do ye think?” he asked, presently.
“Yah, dot is a riddle alretty! Maybe dot von on der left,” answered the German.
“An’ I was after thinkin’ it was the wan on the right.”
“Aren’t you sure, Dan?” questioned Gilbert.
“I confess I am not. I wasn’t watchin’ the road very closely whin we came over the bit av a hill yonder.”