nd, red, merry face, still wearing that happy-go-lucky look which there is no mistaking. His skin was camouflaged by a generous coat of tan and those two strategic hills, his cheeks, had not been reduced by the assaults of hunger. There was, moreover, a look of mischief in his eyes, bespeaking a jaunty acceptance of whatever peril and adventure might befall and when he spoke he rolled his R's and screwed up his mouth accordingly.
"Maybe you've heard of the Catskills," said Tom. "That's where he lives."
"My dad's got a big apple orrcharrd therre," added Archer.
Florette Leteur had not heard of the Catskills, but she had heard a good deal about the Americans lately and she looked from one to the other of this hapless pair, who seemed almost to have dropped from the clouds.
"You have been not wise to escape," she said sympathetically. "Ze Prussians, zey are sure to catch you.--Tell me more of my bruzzer."
"The Prussians ain't so smarrt," said Archer. "They're good at s