"
"Count me in," said Billy.
"If only poor Tom were with us!" mourned Frank "It's just the kind
of thing he'd like to trail. And if there should happen to be any
scrapping, he'd be a mighty handy lad to have along with us. He'd
rather fight than eat any time."
After the drills and work of the day were over they got permission
to go to the town and started across the river just as twilight
was falling.
While passing through one of the streets, they met the famous
German physician, from whom they customarily got a look that
betrayed his hate of the American uniform. But this time, to their
surprise, he was rubbing his hands and seemed to be in high good
humor.
"What's come over his nibs, I wonder," remarked Billy. "Usually he
seems to have a grouch of the worst kind, but to look at him now
you might think that he'd just had news of a good fat legacy."
"He is different, for a fact." agreed Bart. "He couldn't look
happier if Germany had won the war."
They looked after him, and saw him vanishing into the doorway of a
dwelling that was really a mansion.
"Swell place that," observed Billy.
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