eaty,
huh?"

It was more of an announcement than a question, and Archer looked at Tom
and laughed.

"A treaty!" said he. "Good _night_! Do you mean a scrap 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 feeshing. 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,