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"You German? French?" he panted. "We are French," said Florette, rising. "I can speak ze Anglaise a leetle." "You are not German?" the visitor repeated as if relieved. "Only we are Zherman subjects, yess. Our name ees Leteur." "I am American. My name is Tom Slade. I escaped from the prison across there. My my pal escaped with me "
Another account says that the two boys upon reaching the American troops, notified a brother of the girl who was training with the expeditionary forces and that this brother was given a furlough to visit Molin, just below the Swiss frontier, where the girl was being cared for. This soldier's name is given as Armand Leteur.
He said that some one told him that when the American General Pershing came to France, he stood by the grave of Lafayette and said, 'Lafayette, we are here." "Ah, Lafayette, yes!" said the old man, his voice shaking with pride. "But we must not even know there is a great army of Americans here. We must know nothing. We must be blind and deaf," said Madame Leteur, looking about her apprehensively.
Amid the swirl of the waters, as he swam he knew not where, he remembered how Archer had said he ought to think of his duty to Uncle Sam and not imperil his chance to help by going after Florette Leteur.
Now you are so clevaire Yankee clevaire, ha, ha, ha!" he laughed with a kind of irritating hilarity; "why should zey make ziss road? From ze north from Leteur all around zey bring our women to make ziss road. Ziss is where Mam'selle is so! Close by it lives my comrade, Blondel. Ziss is noble army to command, ugh!" He gritted his teeth. "All are women!"
"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.
So that the last service for old Pierre Leteur was performed by an American boy; and at least the ashes of the home fire were left in order by a scout from far across the seas. "It's part of first aid," explained Tom quietly, as he rose; "I learned how at Temple Camp." Archer said nothing. "When a scout from Maryland died up there, I saw how they did it."
She looked at him in doubtful recognition, for the face was grim and cold and there was a look of hard steel in the eyes. Then she glanced in terror at one of the soldiers who was marching back and forth, rifle in hand. "He won't interfere he won't even dare to salute me. If he comes near I'll knock him down. Is your mother here?" "She iss wiz ze friends in Leteur. Her zey do not take."
"Sh-h-h," warned Madame Leteur, looking about; "because America has joined us is no reason we should not be careful. See how our neighbor Le Farge fared for speaking in the village but yesterday. It is glorious news, but we must be careful." "What did neighbor Le Farge say, mamma?" "Sh-h-h. The news of it is not allowed.
But did they ever reach Dundgardt once Leteur? Did they make their way through fair Alsace, under the shadow of the Blue Alsatian Mountains, to the Swiss border? Did Tom's "good ideas" pan out? Was the scout of the Acorn and the Indian head, to triumph still in the solitude of the Black Forest, even as he had triumphed in the rugged Catskills roundabout his beloved Temple Camp?
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