The General himself halted it, and in a few words explained the situation. A couple of the officers, accompanied by the nurses, went over to the boys and at once the children, still sleeping the heavy sleep of exhaustion, were transferred to arms more accustomed to holding them, and carried back to the car. Almost before they realized it, the car was off and Porky turned to the General, saluting.
“Out with it, young man,” said the kindly General, smiling down into the eager and troubled face.
“We will get ’em back, won’t we, sir?” he asked. “They can’t work some game on us, so we will lose ’em!”
“We lost a pup that way once,” said Beany dolefully, also coming to salute.
“Well, you won’t lose your orphans,” the General promised. “I wish I could see your mother’s face when your little party appears.”
“Why, we will write you what she says if you will let us, sir,” Porky volunteered.
“She will be crazy over Bill and Peggy,” added Beany, looking fondly after the car vanishing with their new possessions.
“Beel ant Pekky!” groaned the Frenchman.
“Wee, Mussoo, we have named them already,” said Porky proudly. “We know they have some other names, kind of names, they were registered under, but that kid has to have something easy to yell at him when he makes a home run, and Beany picked on Peggy right off.”
“That about settles it,” laughed the General. “We must be off if we reach our first sector by nightfall.”