Tom did not answer. The plain fact was that they were both thoroughly tired out, with that dog-tiredness which comes suddenly as a reaction after days of nerve-racking apprehension and hard physical effort. For the first two days their nervous excitement had kept them up. But now they were fagged and the tempting invitation to remain at the hovel had been too strong for Archer. Moreover, this new scheme of Tom's to divert their course in a hazardous quest for Florette Leteur was not at all to his liking. But mostly he was tired and everything looks worse when one is tired.
"We're not going to keep on hiking it tonight, are we?" he demanded.
"You said yourself that the old man was kind of—a little off, like," Tom answered patiently. "He's got the bug that he's very shrewd and that he can always get the best of the Germans. Do you think I'd take a chance staying there? We took a chance as it was."
"Yes, and you'rre going to take a biggerr one if you go chasing all over Gerrmany after that girrl. You won't find herr. That was a lot of rattlebrain talk anyway—we're so clevaire!"
"There's no use making fun of him," said Tom; "he helped us."
"We'll get caught, that'll be the end of it," said Archer sullenly. Tom did not answer.
"You seem to be the boss of everything, anyway."
They scrambled diagonally down the eastern slope of the high ground, heading always toward the river and after an hour's travelling came out upon its shore.
"Here's where we'll have to cross if we're going to cross at all," said Tom. "What do you say?"
"I haven't got anything to say," said Archer; "you're doin' all the saying."