Tom Slade with the Boys Over There | Page 4

just get some old clothes and some grub we'll be all right."
"Zere is much danger," said the girl, unconvinced. "We are always
watched. But you are friends to Armand. We must help you."
She led the way into the house and into a simply furnished room
lighted by a single lamp and as she cautiously shut the heavy wooden
blinds and lowered the light, the two fugitives looked eagerly at the
first signs of home life which they had seen in many a long day.
It was in vain that the two Americans declined the wine which old
Pierre insisted upon their drinking.
"You will drink zhust a leetle--yess?" said the girl prettily. "It is make
in our own veenyard."
So the boys sipped a little of the wine and found it grateful to their
weary bodies and overwrought nerves.
"Now you can tell us--of Armand," she said eagerly.
Often during Tom's simple story she stole to the window and, opening

the blind slightly, looked fearfully along the dark, quiet road. The very
atmosphere of the room seemed charged with nervous apprehension
and every sound of the breeze without startled the tense nerves of the
little party.
Old Pierre and his wife, though quite unable to understand, listened
keenly to every word uttered by the strangers, interrupting their
daughter continually to make her translate this or that sentence.
"There ain't so much need to worry," said Tom, with a kind of dogged
self-confidence that relieved Florette not a little. "I wouldn't of headed
for here if I hadn't known I could do it without leaving any trace, 'cause
I wouldn't want to get you into trouble."
Florette looked intently at the square, dull face before her with its big
mouth and its suggestion of a frown. His shock of hair, always
rebellious, was now in utter disorder. He was barefoot and his clothes
were in that condition which only the neglect and squalor of a German
prison camp can produce. But in his gaunt face there shone a look of
determination and a something which seemed to encourage the girl to
believe in him.
"Are zey all like you--ze Americans?" she asked.
"Some of 'em are taller than me," he answered literally, "but I got a
good chest expansion. This feller's name is Archer. He belongs on a
farm in New York."
She glanced at Archer and saw a round, red, merry face, still wearing
that happy-go-lucky look which there is no mistaking. His skin was
camouflaged by a generous coat of tan and those two strategic hills, his
cheeks, had not been reduced by the assaults of hunger. There was,
moreover, a look of mischief in his eyes, bespeaking a jaunty
acceptance of whatever peril and adventure might befall and when he
spoke he rolled his R's and screwed up his mouth accordingly.
"Maybe you've heard of the Catskills," said Tom. "That's where he
lives."

"My dad's got a big apple orrcharrd therre," added Archer.
Florette Leteur had not heard of the Catskills, but she had heard a good
deal about the Americans lately and she looked from one to the other of
this hapless pair, who seemed almost to have dropped from the clouds.
"You have been not wise to escape," she said sympathetically. "Ze
Prussians, zey are sure to catch you.--Tell me more of my bruzzer."
"The Prussians ain't so smarrt," said Archer. "They're good at some
things, but when it comes to tracking and trailing and all that, they're no
good. You neverr hearrd of any famous Gerrman scouts. They're
clumsy. They couldn't stalk a mud turrtle."
"You are not afraid of zem?"
"Surre, we ain't. Didn't we just put one overr on 'em?"
"We looped our trail," explained Tom to the puzzled girl. "If they're
after us at all they probably went north on a blind trail. We monkeyed
the trees all the way through this woods near here."
"He means we didn't touch the ground," explained Archer.
"We made seven footprints getting across the road to the fence and then
we washed 'em away by chucking sticks. And, anyway, we crossed the
road backwards so they'd think we were going the other way. There
ain't much danger--not tonight, anyway."
Again the girl looked from one to the other and then explained to her
father as best she could.
"You are wonderful," she said simply. "We shall win ze war now."
"I was working as a mess boy on a transport," said Tom; "we brought
over about five thousand soldiers. That's how I got acquainted with
Frenchy--I mean Armand----"
"Yes!" she cried, and at the mention of Armand old Pierre could

scarcely keep his seat.
"He came with some soldiers from Illinois. That's out west. He was
good-natured and all the soldiers jollied him. But he always