"Then how did you get here on this train?" he asked sternly, glancing at the conductor, who was now squirming.
"We rode on top most of the way," said Ralph.
"Who gave you permission to do so?" he fired at them.
"No one; we didn't need any permission; we simply got on and here we are," said Alfred.
There was a faint snicker in their rear. The officer colored up. "I will make a report of this," said the officer, glancing at the conductor, and drawing out a book he proceeded to write down the name of the conductor and the number of the train.
"What are your names?" he asked, turning to the boys.
"Now, see here, Lieutenant, you are doing your duty; we know that," said Ralph. "We're just plain American boys with a little deviltry in us sometimes, and the conductor isn't to blame. We have just come out of the hospital after a pretty hot time in the artillery service, and Captain Rose at the camp told us to tell Lieutenant Moore that we wanted transportation. At the station we found he was at this end of the line, so we took this means to get the permit from him."
"In the service, eh? Where?" he snapped.
"At Verdun and at St. Quentin," answered Alfred.
The answer seemed to soften him. "I am sorry," he continued in a different tone, "but I cannot allow you to go on without a permit." The boys stepped off the car.