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Rob suspected something of this sort when he saw the way the villagers observed him and two chums, staring at them as though they were curiosities.
"Makes you feel like some punkins, to have all these people watch every little thing you do, and get out of your way so quick when you go to make a move, don't it?" remarked Tubby, evidently tickled over the attention shown them.
"I don't just like it, to tell you the truth," admitted Merritt.
"Oh! you're too modest by half, Merritt!" jeered the fat scout.
"It isn't that, Tubby," explained the other. "Rob here says he believes our guide is spreading the report that we're English messengers, sent ahead to pick up news about the Germans, so they can be smashed when the British army gets here."
"Well, what of that?" demanded his friend. "It isn't so very dreadful that I can see, to be mistaken for a Johnny Bull."
"You'll change your tune, my boy," Rob told him, "if the Germans should come along and nab us. We'll soon see how you begin to roar out that you're a Yankee, as true-blue as they make them."
"Oh! but they wouldn't know anything about that!" declared Tubby, though showing signs of increasing dismay at the same time.
"You never can tell," he was told by Rob. "The ways of these smart Germans are past finding out. They've got spies everywhere. Right now there may be some secret sympathizer with the Fatherland in that bunch close by, taking in all that silly Anthony has been saying."
"Gingersnaps and popguns!" gasped Tubby, "if that's really so I guess we'd better muzzle our guide in a hurry. Where's he gone to, do you think, Rob? It was all of half an hour ago that I saw him last, talking to the crowd."
"I was wondering about that myself," said Merritt. "If we expect to be getting along about this time, we ought to look Anthony up."