"My father wants to know if zey are all like you in America. Yess?"
"He used to be a Boy Scout," said Archer. "Did you everr hearr of them?"
But Florette only shook her head again and stared. Ever since the war began she had lived under the shadow of the big prison camp. Many of her friends and townspeople, Alsatians loyal still to France, were held there among the growing horde of foreigners. Never had she heard of any one escaping. If two American boys could melt the wires and walk out, what would happen next?
And one of them had blithely announced that these mighty invincible Prussians "couldn't even trail a mud turtle." She wondered what they meant by "looping our trail."
CHAPTER IV
THE OLD WINE VAT
"We thought maybe you'd let us stay here tonight and tomorrow," said Tom after the scanty meal which the depleted larder yielded, "and tomorrow night we'll start out south; 'cause we don't want to be traveling in the daytime. Maybe you could give us some clothes so it'll change our looks. It's less than a hundred miles to Basel——"
"My pappa say you could nevaire cross ze frontier. Zere are wires—electric——"