"Well, is that cheering?"
"You bet it is!"
"Do you mean that there is a chance that we will not be picked up?"
"Of course I do. Cheer up! We are not caught yet. Sicker chaps than we are have got well. True we can't get back to our front; and true again the chances are thousands to one against our escaping capture, but Holland is somewhere back of us and to the north—-and we have that one chance, in spite of all the odds."
"And what'll they do to us in Holland—-intern us for the duration of the war!" Bob was still pessimistic.
"Oh, you can't tell. If we can get away from the Boches we can surely get away from the easy-going Dutchmen—-and anyway, if we must be interned I'd rather it happened in Holland than in Hun-land. Let's play the game till time is called."
"You're right," said Bob. "I ought to be ashamed of myself for losing heart. Let's forget that we came down in that plane, and think of ourselves as pedestrians. I remember reading somewhere that if you want to play a part you've got to imagine yourself living it. Let's think we are Belgians."
"Good! And let's look like Belgians too—-I guess to do that we will have to turn burglar, eh? Well—-they say all's fair in love and war, you know. Come on! Let's break into this house and see what we can find?"