Just now they were practically prisoners, having been accorded passage from the German lines to a neutral port in Holland, where they expected to take ship for their home town of New York.
Ned Nestor, a fine, manly lad, was the Leader of the Wolf Patrol of New York City, Boy Scouts of America. He had been often selected for difficult work by the Chief of the United States Secret Service because of his aptitude for the work. His coolness and sound judgment had carried himself and his companions through many difficulties. It was a mission of this character upon which the boys had recently engaged and from which they were now returning.
Jimmie McGraw, freckle-faced and red-headed, was a member of the Wolf Patrol of which Ned was leader. He was an ardent adherent of Ned’s. Brought up a newsboy on the Bowery of New York the boy had come under the observation of the older lad, who had found him indeed worthy of all the care which had been bestowed.
Jack Bosworth, the son of a prominent corporation attorney, and Harry Stevens, whose father was a well-known automobile manufacturer, were the other members of the group. These latter two were members of the Black Bear Patrol of New York. All the lads appeared to be about eighteen years old. Their tidy uniforms, their well-knit frames and their alert attitudes bespoke the constant training of their leader.
As they looked from the windows of the car in which they now found themselves they discovered that the situation was even as Jimmie had stated. The country was flooded with water released from the dikes.
“Tell you what,” declared Jack Bosworth, after a prolonged inspection of the landscape, if it may be so called, “this is some wet!”
“You win the argument,” announced Jimmie, wrinkling his freckled nose at his companion. “I always said you were the wise little fox!”
Jack’s answer to this pleasantry was an attempt to box the younger lad’s ears. Jimmie’s resentment of the procedure drew the others into a friendly scuffle that terminated only when the contestants paused for breath.
“I wish they’d hurry up and let us get onto dry land again!” said Jimmie, when he next found himself able to draw a long breath.
“You won’t find much dry land when it rains like it’s going to right now!” stated Harry, pointing out of the window. “Watch it come down!”