"Lights coming our way," he said. "We'd better pull over and see what's what. I was going to stop, anyway. There's something strange about this, Dave."
"Yes, and I know what you mean, too!" Dave said as he suddenly realized. "The highway's been empty ever since we came onto it. We haven't passed a thing, or met anything."
"Right you are," Freddy nodded. "I've been wondering about that. But, we're meeting something, now. I say, that's not a car. The lights aren't together. They must be motorcycles."
"They are!" Dave said. "Hear their motors? Boy, are they stepping along."
"Phew!" Freddy suddenly cried out. "Supposing they're German? We'd better hop out and...."
"Too late, now!" Dave cried as the lights swerved toward their side of the road. "They've seen our lights. And, here they are, too!"
The last word had no more than left Dave's lips than two army motorcycles roared up beside the car and brakes screamed to a halt. Dave saw two shadowy figures vault from the saddles and then the white beam of a flashlight flung straight into his face blinded him. The blood running out of his face felt like cold water. He tried to shout that they were not soldiers but the words would not come. Then he almost sobbed aloud as a sharp voice spoke in French.
"Who are you? What is this? Nom de Dieu! Two boys in a scouting car. Well, have you lost your tongues? What is all this, I ask?"
"We are trying to reach General Boulard's headquarters," Freddy said before Dave could open his mouth. "We have important information. Will you please take that light out of my eyes? We are not armed, as you can see."
The bright light was lowered but it was several seconds before the boys could adjust their eyes to the sudden change from brilliant light to almost pitch darkness. Then they saw two Belgian corporals with dispatch rider brassards fastened about the left sleeve of their tunics. Each had his army pistol drawn and held ready for use.