“I know that yours isn’t always safe,” I told him.
“It means when a general promises not to interfere with anybody, even an enemy. He gives them safe conduct; that means that they can go ahead and not worry about being pinched, see? These people gave us safe conduct and they’re not bothering us, because they know the scouts are all right. It’s on account of the way I talked to them. I came along first like a kind of a—you know—a what-d’ye-call-it——”
“I don’t know what to call it,” I said.
“A herald,” he blurted out.
“Well,” I said, “you look more like the funny page in the Journal to me. Don’t talk too loud, the danger isn’t passed.”
By that time we had got about fifty yards past the Post Office and I was feeling kind of nervous, but just the same I knew the danger was over.
Pee-wee said, “Do you mean to tell me that those people would let a couple of kids like us go by driving a big van, and never ask them any questions, if they didn’t know that we were all right? I fixed it all right, while you and Brent were worrying your lives out in the van. Now we’re safe.”
I said, “Oh, you’re the little fixer, all right.”
Just then, good night, one of those men came running after us calling, “Hi thar, wait a minute, you youngsters!”
Oh, boy, a cold shudder ran down my back. I said, “We’re pinched. I knew it was too good to be true.”