A little while later George again made a remark.
“Now that they’re coming closer, I believe I can see several people in uniforms aboard that swift little boat.”
Jack took a look on hearing this.
“You’re right there, George,” he assented; “but then there’s nothing to hinder Magyar officers going on the river when they choose. In fact, I imagine they pass plenty of their time that way when off duty.”
Josh could not hold out after that any longer, but condescended to lazily turn and indifferently survey the approaching craft.
“Oh, she’s a dandy for speed, all right,” he frankly admitted, “and could make circles around our old tub if the skipper wanted. Yes, those are soldiers on board, I’ll admit, but how can you decide that they want to overhaul us, I’d like to know?”
“I’m only guessing when I say that,” acknowledged George; “but now that I look sharper it strikes me one of those officers is the tall chap wearing the feather in his hat that we noticed on the bridge. How about it, Jack?”
“He looks like that man, but then there are probably scores in Budapest who wear that same kind of hat, Alpine style. He’s probably an officer of the mountaineer corps, those fellows from the Carnic Alps who can do such wonderful stunts in scaling dizzy heights.”
“Well, we must soon know if there’s going to be any sort of a row,” said George, “because in ten minutes or less they’ll overtake us.”
“There must be no row, remember, boys,” advised Jack. “If we attempted to resist arrest we’d soon be trapped, for they would send word down-river way about us by telegraph or telephone, and officers would be on the watch for us all along the route. Don’t forget that.”