They made their way out and back to the railway station. And Dick seemed a little disappointed.
"I don't think this is much to be doing!" he grumbled.
But Harry's eyes were glistening.
"Don't you see?" he said, lowering his voice so that they could not be overheard. "We know something now that probably even a lot of the soldiers don't know! They're mobilizing. If they are going to be sent from Waterloo it must mean that they're going to Southampton—and that means that they will reach France. That's what we'll see at Waterloo station—troops entraining to start the trip to France. They're going to fight over there. Everyone is guessing at that—a lot of people thought most of the army would be sent to the East Coast. But that can't be so, you see. If it was, they would be starting from King's Cross and Liverpool street stations, not from Waterloo."
"Oh, I never thought of that!" said Dick, brightening.
When they got on the train at Ealing they were lucky enough to get a compartment to themselves, since at that time more people were coming to Ealing than were leaving it. Dick began at once to give vent to his wonder.
"How many of them do you suppose are going?" he cried. "Who will be in command? Sir John French, I think. Lord Kitchener is to be War Minister, they say, and stay in London. I bet they whip those bally Germans until they don't know where they are—"
"Steady on!" said Harry, smiling, but a little concerned, none the less. "Dick, don't talk like that! You don't know who may be listening!"
"Why, Harry! No one can hear us—we're all alone in the carriage!"
"I know, but we don't know who's in the next one, or whether they can hear through or not. The wall isn't very thick, you know. We can't be too careful. I don't think anyone knows what we're doing but there isn't any reason why we should take any risk at all."