The crowd understood, and "L Americain" was frequently heard. It did not look like war. Everyone knew, of course, that Belgium had refused Germany's demand, and that war was upon them, but the scene reminded the boys of a huge picnic, with a lot of extras thrown in. Everyone was laughing and talking.
As an officer approached, Pierre saluted.
"You must drive to the rendezvous," said the officer.
Pierre nodded and followed the mounted lancer until they drew up before a military barracks where Pierre was requested to follow an orderly. The boys jumped out and accompanied him. After entering a long wide hall, filled with soldiers, they were conducted to the Commandant's office.
Without ceremony the orderly marched them to an officer who sat at the head of a long table, and who seemed to know the object of Pierre's visit.
"Who is the owner of your car? What is his address? What is its value?" These and other details were quickly asked and put down by a clerk.
At the close of the examination the officer said: "The car has been requisitioned by the Belgian government for military uses. The clerk will furnish you a certificate, and the owner will receive compensation for it in due time."
Pierre was out of a job, and the boys stranded without a machine. Pierre smiled, and the boys walked down the hill with a sort of jolly feeling. Why, they did not know.
"I shall join the colors at once," said Pierre.
"Good for you!" cried Ralph.