"Not the least danger," declared Rob. "But, all the same, my horse seems trying to hold back, just as yours did, Tubby."
"They're sure a cantankerous lot all through!" grumbled the fat scout, looking carefully where he expected to plant his foot next; for, in spite of Rob's assurance, he was not quite so certain that the undergrowth beneath the bridge might not harbor some poisonous reptile which might strike unexpectedly.
"They're still keeping up that shouting!" announced Merritt, listening. "Which I take it is a queer thing for them to do. If they're German raiders why don't they come across and interview us, I wonder? I thought I saw uniforms among the bunch. How about that, Rob?"
"The sun was in my eyes, and I couldn't say for certain," acknowledged the one spoken to, jerking at the bridle of his horse.
"One thing is sure," said Tubby, "the horses are not at all thirsty; else there's some thing they don't like about this place down here."
All of them were really puzzled by the strange actions of their horses. It was no longer simply Tubby's mount that acted so contrary, but the other three also.
"Guess my nag got cold feet about something; and it's catching as the measles," Tubby announced, as he shook his head in the manner of one who finds himself with too hard a nut to crack.
"Well, that water looks cool and clear," said Merritt, "and I think I could enjoy a few swallows myself, if the horses won't."
"Sure it ain't poisoned, are you, Merritt?" queried Tubby dubiously.