The boys all agreed to that, and the colonel strongly advised them to get out of the war zone, if they could do it in safety.
“It’s hard to part with you, though, my brave boys, and,” particularly addressing Billy and Henri, “I can never forget that it was you who gave my dear dead son the best burial you could. I hope we can go to that grave together some day. I will never forget, either, that daring adventure of your own when you saved our command from being annihilated. Here, sergeant,” calling to that officer who was drilling some raw recruits nearby, “come and get your release as caretaker of these youngsters.”
Sergeant Scott stood as straight as a ramrod, facing the colonel and his young friends.
When he heard what the boys proposed to do, the sergeant bent his head for an instant, then spoke gruffly, with a little husky note, too:
“Fall in, you lads; eyes right; salute!”
With all gravity salutes were exchanged.
“We can give them convoy, can’t we, colonel?”
“Yes, sergeant,” quickly replied the colonel, “give them protection as far on the way as you think best.”
With that the fine soldier and gentleman turned to address some of the staff assembling for conference.
The protecting force of cavalry were with the boys to a point within five miles of the frontier, and all was clear.