"Oh, you mean the Boy Scout. He is somewhere about. He was not quite so fortunate as you. He is being cared for."
"Where?" was Jimmie's startled query. "Let me see him."
"All in good time. He is over there," replied von Liebknecht, pointing to a little group of officers and men not far away.
"Excuse me; I'll be back in a minute," stated Jimmie, darting in the direction indicated. "This is rotten luck!" he added as he approached the group. "I hope that kid isn't hurt badly."
Much to Jimmie's relief he saw the other boy rise to his feet as he approached. In another instant he was by the other's side.
"Are you hurt badly?" he inquired solicitously.
"Not hurt a bit!" declared Dave, drawing himself to his full height and stretching one arm after the other to prove his statement.
"But you're pretty thoroughly shaken up, though!" declared the red-headed lad. "You must have fallen harder than I did."
"Well, I'll admit that last statement," laughed Dave. "I guess the breath was jolly well knocked out of me, don't you know."
"Not quite Johnnie Bull enough to be English," mused Jimmie aloud, "but still too much Johnnie Bull to be strictly United States. Say, Scout, where are you from, and what is your name, and where are you going?" he went on, gazing earnestly at the stranger.