OFF AGAIN
Jerry Hopkins was the first of the three chums to regain his composure
and take the situation in hand. Quietly he motioned to Ned to fall
back, and, at the same time, nodded to Bob not to approach, as the
stout youth seemed about to do. The two soldiers had had enough
experience with Jerry’s method in an emergency to be willing to let him
manage matters now.
“What do you mean? What do you mean?” spluttered the little man, who,
from the back, had so closely resembled Professor Snodgrass. “How dare
you insult me?”
“There seems to be some mistake,” said Jerry, trying to keep his voice
under control, for, truth to tell, he was as indignant as his chums
were at the unwarranted assumption on the part of the stranger.
“Mistake? I should say there had been!” was the exclamation from the
little man. “You made a mistake in thinking I had anything to do with
that--that charlatan! That pretender! That scientific faker, who calls
himself ‘Professor’ Snodgrass. A mistake indeed!”
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” broke in Ned, unable longer to hear his
friend thus abused. “The mistake will be on the other foot in a minute
if you keep on that way!” he said indignantly.
The little man seemed about to rise from the table to attack Ned, but
Jerry gently thrust back his impetuous chum.
“Let me handle him,” he whispered to Ned.
“Is he crazy?” asked Bob.
“It begins to look that way,” answered Jerry, as the little man resumed
his seat at his table, though he did not continue his meal.
“We wish to apologize for having mistaken you for a friend of ours,”
said Jerry suavely. “Seeing you from the back we took you to be
Professor Snodgrass, and----”
“Is _he_ a friend of yours?” asked the little man fiercely.
“He certainly is!” exclaimed Bob truculently.
“Well, all I have to say is that I am sorry for you,” said the little
man. “You had no right to assume that I was he, and your effrontery in
publicly addressing me as such needs to be apologized for.”
“Which we are doing,” said Jerry stiffly. “And I might add,” he went
on, “that if you continue in your present strain there will be
something else to apologize for, and not on our part, either!” He
seemed quite a different Jerry now.
“We have made proper reparation for having mistaken you for our friend,
Professor Snodgrass,” he continued, “and that, to a _gentleman_, should
be sufficient. I think that is all, sir!”
Jerry turned stiffly and marched back to his own table, followed by
Ned and Bob, who had left their seats to join him. For a few seconds
the little bald-headed man did not seem to know what to do. He said
something about its being “all right now,” but mingled with this were
grunts and mutterings about “insolent puppies,” which words, however,
Jerry and his chums thought best to ignore.
“Say, what was eating him, anyhow?” asked Bob, when they had resumed
their seats for their dessert which the pretty Marie was then bringing
to them.
“I guess you mean what had he been eating,” said Ned. “Red pepper
and _chili con carne_ I imagine, with a dish of tabasco sauce and
_frijoles_ on the side.”
“Reminds me of our Mexico trip,” interposed Bob. “What was the name of
that Spanish fellow who was always making so much trouble?”
“You mean Vasco Bilette,” suggested Jerry.
“That’s it! This fellow, who really looks a lot like our dear, old
professor, certainly is touchy.”
“He certainly is,” agreed Jerry. “Say, Bob,” he went on, “you claim you
can _parlez-vous_ better than the rest of us. Suppose you ask Marie if
she knows this duck.”
“Sure!” assented the stout lad. “Say, _chere_ Marie,” he went on as the
pretty little waitress came up to their table, “_comprehendez-vous_
him?” and he pointed to the man who was the cause of the Motor Boys’
discomfiture. For it had been disquieting, to say the least, to have
the eyes of all in the restaurant turned on them during the fracas, as
Ned termed it.
“_Comprehendez-vous_ him?” asked Bob of Marie. “You know. _La petite
hommes de la table d’hote_,” and to make sure that his “French” would
be understood he pointed to the little man.
“Say, what’s that you’re getting off?” demanded Jerry.
“I’m asking her if she’s wise to the guy who’s eating in this
restaurant,” translated Bob. “_Comprehendez_--that means ‘do you know.’
_La petite_--that means ‘little’ and _hommes_ means ‘man.’”
“He’s right there,” declared Ned earnestly, while Marie looked amusedly
at “_les trois mousquetaires_.”
“How do you know?” snapped Jerry.
“Why, isn’t it painted all over the cars we’ve been riding in,
‘chevaux 8--hommes 40’? That is eight horses or forty men. Sure
_hommes_ mean men, or man.”
“Watch Bob swell up,” commented Jerry.
“Well, you told me to spout French, and I’m doing it,” said the lad
with the perpetual appetite. “Now give her a chance to answer. I’ll ask
her again. _Chere Marie! Comprehendez-vous la petite hommes de la table
d’hote?_”
The pretty waitress placed on the table the dishes she had brought up
to serve, turned for a look over her shoulder at the man Bob referred
to, and then looked back, with a smile, at the stout lad and his chums.
“_Oui_,” she answered, guessing shrewdly at Bob’s meaning and shrugging
her shoulders expressively.
“Oh, ho! So she does know him!” exclaimed Ned, for in spite of the fact
that they let Bob assert his knowledge of French, they could not help
acquiring some of the words, and that “_oui_” meant “yes” had been one
of their first acquisitions.
“Who is he?” asked Jerry.
“She can’t understand that,” declared Bob. “Wait, I’ll translate
it to her.” Then, laboriously he said: “_Le nom des hommes?
Comprehendez-vous?_”
“What’s that?” Ned wanted to know.
“I’m asking her if she knows his name,” replied Bob.
They looked anxiously at Marie. Again she turned and glanced at the
little man who had waxed so indignant at being taken for Professor
Snodgrass.
“_Cochon!_” exclaimed Marie, and she seemed to snap out the word as a
second lieutenant issues his commands to the awkward squad.
“What did she say?” chorused Ned and Jerry.
Bob was nonplussed. He scratched his head and then repeated the word to
Marie.
“_Cochon?_” he asked.
“_Cochon! Cochon!_” was the swift answer. “_Oui! Cochon des cochons!_”
“Um!” murmured Bob.
There was a moment’s silence, during which Marie moved off to serve
another table.
“Well, what is he, a German spy?” asked Ned. “If he is, he has his
nerve with him--showing up here after the armistice.”
“Yes, tell us what she said,” begged Jerry.
“Well,” returned Bob slowly, “you know the French language is very
queer. It isn’t like any other language.”
“Oh, we know that all right!” exclaimed Ned. “You needn’t tell us that.
Even though you may know a lot more about it than we do, it hasn’t
taken us six months to appreciate the fact that it’s a mighty elusive
way of conversing. But what I want to know, and what Jerry wants to
know, is: What did Marie say that pepper-hash guy was?”
“Well,” confessed Bob, “that’s just it. If the French language didn’t
have so many words in it that sound a lot alike, but mean a lot of
different things, I could be sure. She called him a _cochon_.”
“A _cochon_ of a _cochon_,” added Jerry.
“Yes, that’s what she did,” said Bob.
“Well, but what is a cochon?” asked Ned.
“It’s either a pig or a coachman,” said Bob, desperately. “That’s
the trouble. I’m not sure which. I forget whether _cocher_ is pig or
whether it’s coachman, and I don’t know whether _cochon_ is coachman or
pig. I know it’s one or the other, but just now I sort of forget.”
“A heap of good your French does us!” laughed Jerry. “If she said he
was a coachman it might mean he was a respectable, though humble,
member of society. If, on the other hand, she called him a pig, it
might mean he had something to do with starting this war. Now which is
it?”
Bob scratched his head again. Plainly, he was “stumped.”
“I’ll ask her again when she comes back,” he said. “I wish I had my
French book here. I sort of think that _cochon_ means pig, and, in that
case----”
“Well, he certainly acted like a pig, so we’ll let it go at that,”
declared Jerry. “The idea of getting on his ear just because we
happened to mistake him for Professor Snodgrass!”
“And he did look a lot like him from the back,” declared Ned.
“Sure,” assented Bob. “I wonder where the dear old chap is, anyhow? I
wish he were going back with us.”
“Not much chance of that,” said Jerry. “He said he’d like to, and he
really started back, but he received word to take up some other line of
scientific investigation before he left to go back to Boxwood Hall, and
you can wager your last cartridge that he’ll do it. But this man seems
to have some sort of grudge against him, taking us up the way he did.”
“That’s right,” agreed Ned. “Say, Bob, you’ll have to tackle your
friend Marie again. See if you can’t find out more about this duck.”
“I will,” promised Bob. “I’ll speak to her as soon as she comes back.
It might be, you know, that this fellow is some relation to the Germans
the professor captured.”
“Not much chance of that,” declared Jerry. “This _cocher_ or _cochon_
doesn’t seem a bit like a Hun.”
“You never can tell,” remarked Ned. “We’d better find out all we can
about him while we have the chance. If Professor Snodgrass is going to
remain here it would be a good thing for him to know about this guy.”
“Here comes Marie now,” said Jerry. “Go at her again, Bob, and see if
she can’t speak English.”
“I will,” agreed the stout youth.
When Marie again approached their table, in response to a beckoning
signal, Bob began:
“_Marie, de la cochon la petite cocher est le----_”
“Oh, for cats’ sake!” cried Ned, “you’ll be worse tangled than before.
Can’t you get some American words? Here, let me----”
But at that moment there came an interruption in the person of a member
of the American military police who, thrusting his head into the
restaurant, called:
“Anybody here that’s booked to go on the _Sherman_ had better hike back
to the dock. She’s going to sail soon.”
“Has the machinery been repaired?” asked Jerry.
“Yes! She’s getting ready to sail. You fellows going on her?”
“Yes,” answered Ned.
“Oh, you lucky dogs!” sighed the other. “Well, get a move on. We got
orders to round up everybody that had shore leave,” and with a friendly
wave of his hand he departed.
“Come on!” cried Jerry, gathering up a few possessions, an example
followed by the others.
“I’ll pay the bill,” said Ned, taking a handful of change out of his
pocket.
“Where’s Marie?” asked Bob. “I want to----”
“Oh, never mind finding out what _cochon_ means!” exclaimed Jerry. “We
don’t want to be left!”
“I want to say good-bye!” declared Bob, indignantly. “And I was going
to ask her if she could put us up some sandwiches.”
“Cupboard love!” laughed Ned. “Come on! Move lively!”
“The pepper-hash individual is moving, too,” commented Jerry, as they
left the restaurant, having noted that the man who had so resented
being taken for Professor Snodgrass was also settling his bill.
“Well, if he doesn’t run into us again I’ll be thankful,” remarked
Jerry. “He sure did make me feel like twenty-nine cents when he turned
on me the way he did.”
Quickly the three chums made their way back to the dock to which the
_Sherman_ had returned. They saw others on the same errand. The repair
work had been completed sooner than was expected, and now the siren of
the vessel was blowing to call back those who had been allowed shore
leave. Fortunately each one, when being granted permission to “stretch
his legs,” had been told to hold himself in readiness, and none had
gone far away.
The Motor Boys were soon on board again, and after a slight delay the
transport was again moving slowly from the dock.
“Off again!” exclaimed Ned.
“Yes; and let’s hope with better luck!” added Bob.
Jerry looked about the crowded deck. As he did so he gave a start, and
grasped the arm of Ned.
“Look!” he exclaimed.
“What is it?” asked Ned. “See a ghost?”
“No, but if that isn’t our peppery friend of the restaurant--_le
cochon_--I’ll do K. P. for a week!”