Buster chuckled at hearing that.
“Don’t you worry about us, George,” he advised the other, “we can get through all right. As long as I’ve got eyes and can smell things I reckon I’ll be able to pick out what we want most. And money talks, George, better than some people’s German.”
“Oh, well, they say a prophet never is appreciated in his own country,” sighed George; “but all the same I’m going to practice up in my German, because it may serve us well sooner or later. If you fellows get pinched, send us word and I’ll hurry around to the police station to explain matters.”
“How kind you are, George; but I’m afraid after they heard your fine German they’d put you behind the bars for murdering the language.”
With that parting shot Buster hurried away, leaving Josh shaking his sides with laughter, for they did love to get a crack at George, who was always complaining and throwing cold water on every plan.
Jack led the way, for, having been already over the ground, he could serve in the capacity of pilot.
“Listen, Buster,” he said impressively as they walked along toward the nearby street, “from now on we want to let everybody know that we’re American boys, and not English, you understand.”
“What’s the idea, Jack? Up to now a lot of people have taken us for English, and we’ve let it go at that without taking the bother to explain, because there’s always been a warm friendly feeling between the Austrians and the English.”
“That’s right, Buster, but if Great Britain gets into this big scrap you can see that she’ll be up against the soldiers of Austria-Hungary as well as those of the Kaiser. So from now on stand up for your colors. We’re Americans every time, and don’t you forget it.”
Buster evidently saw the point, for he promised to faithfully observe the counsel of his mate, in whom he placed the utmost reliance.