And now he did
something that surprised Arthur. He stripped off the officer's coat,
took his uniform jacket and his cap. These he himself donned, and,
though they were far too big for him, he cried out with satisfaction at
the fit of the cap.
"Now do you see?" he cried. "I bet we could go through the German
lines like this! Hello!"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, but this is that chap Poertner--one of the men we got away
from! He was taken into Liege as a prisoner. Don't you remember? He
must have got away or else the Germans must have taken the fort where
they were holding him! I'm afraid it's that!"
But there was no more time to be wasted. Paul leaped to the steering
wheel of the car.
"In with you, Arthur!" he cried. "Get down, so that you won't be seen.
Down low, on the floor!"
"Why?" asked Arthur, though he had obeyed before he asked the question.
"You haven't any uniform. You'd be spotted at once. If they see me in
this rig, they may mistake me for a German officer, you see. That's
why I took it. I was sorry to have to do it, but it's war, and all's
fair! Now we're off!"
On the word he turned the car around, and they were really off in
another moment, racing down the hill that the car had just climbed so
laboriously, to have its journey so ingloriously halted.
"It's a wonderful little car. They must use a lot of these for
dispatch bearers," said Paul.
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