Gesticulating and conversing rapidly two soldiers approached the little group of Boy Scouts. Apparently an argument of some sort was in progress, but the boys could not determine the nature of it.
One of the men pointed to the uniforms and to the medals upon the sleeves of the boys’ jackets. Gradually his companion seemed to be convinced by the flow of words. At length he nodded his head, as if surrendering his last doubts. The two men fell to examining the luggage.
“Go as far as you like, Old Scout!” scorned Jimmie, as he observed the rough manner in which his belongings were being tossed about. “I’ll bet I’d punch your dome a little, though, if you could talk English!”
“Ah, ha!” cried one of the soldiers, tapping his comrade on the shoulder, as if his argument had been conclusively supported. “Anglaise!”
A torrent of words from the other seemed to meet a receptive ear. The first speaker nodded energetically. His satisfaction was all too evident. From his appearance he was expecting nothing short of a medal.
“Judging from their motions,” Jimmie remarked, “these two fellows are about to fight a duel. I’ll bet on the shorter one!”
“Not much!” declared Harry. “They’re merely telling one another what a nice day it was yesterday and how fine the weather’ll be when it clears up. They are using the sign language, that’s all!”
“Don’t you kid yourself!” protested Jimmie, uneasily. “I smell Old Man Trouble coming around the corner right now!”
“Go on, Jimmie!” scorned Jack. “You’re dreaming again!”
“I know I am!” replied the younger lad. “Last night I dreamed of eating salt mackerel and my dream book says that means trouble!”