“We’ve already seen something of a battle from a distance, you remember, Josh,” he told the other, “and all of us decided that it was simply terrible. For my part, while I’d like to see the French in action I’m not going out of my way to take chances. The way they fill the air with deadly missiles from quick-firers and with bursting shrapnel gives you a cold feeling.”
“Rod,” said Hanky Panky, who somehow had not been taking part in this talk, “do turn and watch that poor little woman over there. She’s in a peck of trouble, I reckon, by the way she acts, first looking at a paper she’s been reading, and then wiping her eyes with her apron.”
“You mean the one with the dog team, and the tall, brass-mounted milk cans, don’t you, Hanky Panky?” asked Josh quickly. “I saw her a while ago, and heard her speak to the little child in wooden sabots that is tagging at her heels. It was pure French she used, and I’d wager a cookey she isn’t a Belgian at all. There are lots of people from northern France in Antwerp, you know.”
“Well, she’s having a hard time of it, some way or other,” added Hanky Panky. “You can see her hug and kiss the little girl, and then read her letter again. Now she looks around as if wondering where she can find a friend. Say, Rod, you can speak French right well; what’s to hinder our finding out what the matter is? Everybody in Antwerp is too excited about the war to bother over a little thing like a poor French woman’s troubles.”
Thus appealed to Rod laughed good-naturedly, and then led the way straight toward the spot where the owner of the dog team stood. Evidently she was on her rounds delivering fresh milk, when overtaken by bad news.
When Rod addressed her in her native tongue she looked up appealingly. Evidently she must have liked the appearance of the three frank-looking American boys, for she quickly commenced to talk volubly, all the while shrugging her shoulders, and emphasizing her words with gestures and face expressions.
The other boys could see that she was comparatively young, and not bad looking. As for the child, they were greatly smitten with her pink cheeks and big black eyes, as well as the coy glances the little thing gave them.
Presently Rod was seen to be reading a letter she handed him, and which she may have taken from the mail while on her milk route. Again Rod conversed with her, greatly to the mystification of his comrades, who thought he would never stop.
Finally Rod turned toward them.
“For goodness’ sake tell us what it all means, Rod!” urged Hanky Panky.