The French officer shrugged, and for the five hundredth time peered up at the sky.
"Something going to happen?" he murmured. "Of course not. My neck, it is a little stiff. It feels better when I move my head, so."
Lieutenant Defoe punctuated his words with a laugh, but that laugh did not ring true in Dave's ears.
"You're looking for German airplanes, aren't you?" he said straight out. "And you are worried, too, about how the army is getting along. I saw you talking with a colonel just before we left. Did you get any news?"
"We are holding the German cows," Lieutenant Defoe said through clenched teeth. "The English and our gallant troops are now pouring into Belgium by the thousands. We will throw the Boche back. Yes, he shall be taught a lesson he will not forget for a long time."
The French officer lifted one hand from the wheel, doubled it into a rock hard fist and shook it savagely at an imaginary foe.
"This time we shall teach them a lesson, once and for all!" he cried. "We...!"
The rest died on his lips. Rather it was changed into a cry of both anger and surprise. At that moment the car had gone spinning around a sharp bend in the road and there directly ahead was a scene that brought both Defoe and Dave bolt upright in the seat. The road was black with men, women, and children. A sea of people, and horses, and cows, and goats, and dogs was sweeping toward them. There were wagons, and carts, and even baby carriages piled high with household goods. And above it all rose a constant unending babble of frightened tongues.
"Good gosh, look at them!" Dave exclaimed.
Lieutenant Defoe didn't say a word. He quickly slipped the car out of gear and braked it to a stop. Then he climbed down onto the road and Dave saw him slide his hand toward his holstered gun. The swarm of men, women, and children advanced relentlessly toward them. Lieutenant Defoe flung up one hand.