Then fresh artillery was to be found going to the front, the horses snorting as though they already scented the battle smoke, the men sitting there on gun carriage and caisson, grim and eager, though none could say if he might be so fortunate as to see the sun set when that dreadful day reached its close.
Other big vans there were carrying fresh ammunition to the guns that were so noisily punctuating the morning atmosphere with their clamor. French powder and shot had never been sent forth on a mission more in keeping with the hearts of the people. A million hands would willingly toil day by day making fresh supplies, if only it could win for them another such fight as this glorious victory over the German invaders on the banks of the Marne.
There came a time, however, when Rod was brought to a sudden stop through other means than his own will. From either side of the road arose men wearing the French uniform. Guns were brought to bear upon the three riders, and a gruff voice ordered them to come to a halt and surrender.
Laughing at what they deemed something akin to a joke, they hastened to comply.
“We might as well go to their headquarters, as they are ordering us to,” suggested Rod pleasantly; “it will serve to break the monotony of our ride, and who knows what information we may be able to pick up there.”
He touched his breast pocket as he said this, and the other boys knew that Rod did not in the least doubt the ability of those papers to carry them through any little difficulty that might arise.
Accordingly he turned to the grizzled French sergeant who seemed to be in charge of the detail by which they had been taken prisoners, and told him to lead the way to his commanding officer.
Passing up the road they turned into what seemed to be a little-used path. Each of the boys trundled his machine along, preferring to do this rather than risk handing them over to the soldiers.
Even Hanky Panky exhibited no sign of alarm. If in the beginning he felt any such weakness it had been immediately set at rest by those cheery words which Rod spoke. Of course they could quickly satisfy the French commander of their standing; those magical documents would do the trick and gain them new friends as well.
Shortly afterwards they found themselves in what seemed to be a temporary camp. A regiment of troops had been stationed here for some strategical purpose, which was never explained to the boys. Under a shelter tent several officers were conferring while they sipped their coffee. The older man with the white imperial Rod knew to be a colonel from his uniform. All of them eyed the trio with frowns, and somehow Hanky Panky began to feel a little chill.