"You will remain here, under guard," the captain repeated, without the slightest variance of inflection in his tone.
"But I'm an American!"
"The matter will be duly investigated."
Horace grew red with anger, and boy-like and untrained in military discipline he burst out,
"Well, if you all get cut up by Germans, it won't be my fault. You've got Von Kluck on your left, Von Buelow on your right and Von Hausen behind. If you stay here, they'll make mincemeat of you."
"We will endeavor to avoid that fate," said the Englishman, stiffly, and motioned for the lad to be led away.
Horace fairly danced with temper.
The Londoner, who had listened to the boy's outburst, grinned broadly as soon as they had left the place.
"You've got cheek, you 'ave," he said, "talkin' to an officer like that."
"He!" exploded Horace, "he's made of wood, head and all!"