"Excuse me, officer, but we can't understand you. Perhaps you understand English. That's the only language we can speak."
"Ah!" answered the officer pleasantly. "And whom have I the honor of addressing? I do not seem to recognize you!"
"We are four boys from the United States," replied Ned pleasantly, "making a trip through France for pleasure. We have been detained and are, therefore, somewhat confused as to our location in Paris. Perhaps you could direct us to a good hotel, and also to the War Office."
"Certainly, gentlemen," responded the officer, "I shall be most happy to accommodate you in any way possible. But, first, it will be necessary for me to examine your passports and to report your presence to the Prefect of Police. It is only my duty, you know!"
"If we can be sure of a guard to protect our aeroplane," Ned suggested, "we shall be glad to accompany you to the office of the Prefect. We must communicate with your War Office at the earliest moment possible. We wish to avoid international complications."
A look of astonishment and interest overspread the features of the officer. Turning to his companions, he rapidly gave orders. Two of the Gendarmes at once began forcing back to a respectful distance the curious crowd. Ned and his companions were impressed with the respectful promptness with which the onlookers obeyed the officer's commands.
Alighting from their positions, the boys stretched their cramped legs in relief, and stood at attention ready for the next move.
"When does the next 'Jitney bus' arrive?" asked Jimmie.
"Your pardon, please," spoke up the officer, "I do not understand the term you have just used. My use of English is imperfect."
"My use of English is also imperfect," spoke up Jimmie, confusedly, "and I am the one to apologize. That term is United States slang for a public motor bus. Ned, here, says I use too much slang!"