Part 19 (2/2)

”A treaty!” said he. ”Good _night_! Do you mean a sc.r.a.p o' paperr?”

”Ve let you off,” said the German in a tone of severe condescension. ”Ve gif you good clothes--here,” he added, seeming unable to get away from his manner of command. ”Ve go fees.h.i.+ng. Ve say nutting--ve let you go.

You escape--ach, vat iss dis?” he added deprecatingly. ”Ve say nutting.”

”And we don't say anything eitherr, is that it?” said Archer.

”Eef you talk you can't escape, what? Vy shall you talk, huh?”

Tom looked at Archer, who screwed up his freckled nose and gazed shrewdly at the Germans with a sagacious and highly satisfied look in his mischievous eye.

”That's the treaty, is it?” he said. ”And that's just the kind of--shut up!” he interpolated, glancing sideways at Tom. ”I'll do the talking--that's just the kind of stuff you'rre trying to put overr on President Wilson, too--tryin' to make the otherr fellerr think he's licked and then making believe you'rre willing to be generous. You got the nerrve (the R's fairly rolled and rumbled as he gathered momentum)--you got the nerrve to come herre with out any guns or sworrds and things and think you can scarre us. Do you know--shut up!” he shot at Tom by way of precaution. ”Do you know wherre I think yourr sworrds and things arre? I think the English Tommies have got 'em. I know all about you fellerrs deserrting--I hearrd about it in prison. You'rre deserrting every day. Some of you arre even surrenderrin' to get a good squarre meal. And do you know what an English Tommy told me--you consarrned blufferr, you----”

He was in full swing now, his freckled nose all screwed up and rolling out his R's like artillery. Even sober Tom couldn't help smiling at the good old upstate adjective, _consarrned_.

”He told me a Hun is no good when he loses his gun or his sworrd. You don't think I'm a-scarred of _you_, do you? It's fifty-fifty--two against two, you pair of bloomin' kidnapperrs, and you won't tell 'cause you can't afford to! Same reason as we won't. But you can't put one overr on me any morre'n you can on President Wilson and if you'rre forr making treaties you got to get down off your high horrse--see? You ain't got a superiorrity of numbers now! You got nothing but fourr fists, same as we got. Forr two cents, I'd wash yourr face on those rocks! Treaties!

I come from Corrnville Centre, I do, and----”

Tom laughed outright.

”You shut up!” said Archer. ”You want to make a treaty, huh? All right, that'll be two Huns less forr the Allies to feed. We'll swap with you, all right, and I wish you luck. I don't know wherre you'rre going or what you'rre going to do and I don't carre a rotten apple. Only you ain't going to dictate terrms to _me_. You'll take these crazy old rags and you'rre welcome to 'em, and we'll take yourr uniforms if that's what you want. Treaty! _We'll_ make a treaty with you! And we'll take the boat too, and if that don't satisfy you then that's the end of the what-d'-you-call it! You keep still!” he added, turning to Tom.

CHAPTER XXIV

MILITARY ETIQUETTE

”What did you mean by the _what-d'-you call it?_” Tom asked, as they rowed through the darkness for the Baden sh.o.r.e.

”Arrmis-stice,” said Archer, wrestling with the word.

”Oh,” said Tom.

”That's the way to handle 'em,” Archer said with undisguised satisfaction.

”I never saw you like that before,” said Tom. ”I had to laugh when you said _consarn_.”

”That's the Huns all overr,” said Archer, his vehemence not yet altogether abated. ”They'll try to do the bossing even afterr they'rre licked. Treaties! They've got theirr firrst taste of a _Yankee_ treaty, hey? Didn't even have a sworrd and wanted me to think they werre doin'

us a favorr! President Wilson knows how to handle that bunch, all right, all right!--Don't row if you'rre tirred.”

”It don't hurt my leg to row, only I see now I couldn't swim it.”

”Think I didn't know that?” said Archer.

”I got to admit you did fine,” said Tom.

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