" The Americans were rather at a
loss, but they seemed masters of themselves, and laughed and talked
with glee as they gazed on the unfamiliar scenes. They, too, were
enjoying a holiday before being sent on to be billeted with the
French or British troops.
"Come on, let's talk to 'em!" cried Tom, enthusiastically. "It's as
good as a letter from home to see 'em!"
"I thought you meant you saw--er--Bessie and her mother," returned
Jack, and there was a little disappointment in his voice.
"Oh, we'll see them soon enough, if they're still in Paris," said
Tom, gazing curiously at his chum. "But they don't know we are
coming here."
"Yes, they do," said Jack, quietly.
"They do? Then you must have written."
"Of course. Don't you want to see them before we get shipped off to
a new sector?"
"Why, yes. Just now, though, I'm anxious to hear some good, old
United States talk. Come on, let's speak to 'em. There's one bunch
that seems to be in trouble."
But the trouble was only because some of Pershing's boys--as they
were generally called wanted to make some purchases at a candy shop
and did not know enough of the language to make their meaning clear.
It was a good-natured misunderstanding, and both the French
shop-keeper and his helper and the doughboys were laughing over it.
"Hello, boys! Glad to see you! Can we help you out?" asked Tom, as
he and Jack joined the group.
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