, speaking of France," said Tom. "We could always
pick out a fellow that came over from England as soon as they set him to
driving an ambulance. He'd always go plunk over to the left side of the
road. You know they have to keep to the left over there instead of to
the right----"

"Yes, I know----" Hood began, and stopped short.

"Been over there, eh?"

"I'm not English, but I lived there several years, and drove a car."

"Yes?" Tom laughed. "Well, now, I just noticed how _you_ kept edging
over to the left. I didn't think anything about your coming from
England, but I just happened to notice it. Takes a long time to get a
habit out of your nut, doesn't it? People might say you were reckless
and all that when really it would just be that habit that you couldn't
get away from. I've got so as I can tell a Pittsburgh scout, or a
Canadian scout just from little things--little habits."

"You're a pretty keen observer," said Hood; "that about the eyes of a
dead person interests me. When you made that discovery up on the
mountain, do you mean----"

"Your engine isn't hitting on all four, Hood," Tom interrupted.

They both listened for a minute.

"Guess not," said the driver.

"Wire off, maybe," Tom suggested.

Hood stopped the machine and got out. It would have been more like Tom
to jump out and investigate for himself, especially since he had run the
old truck long before Hood had ever seen it. But he did not do it.
Instead, he remained seated. Hood was right, there was nothing whatever
the matter with the engine. He wondered how Tom could have thought there
was.

Tom seemed not greatly interested until his companion climbed in, then
he craned his neck out and looked down where Hood had been standing.

"All right," he finally said; "I was wrong, as usual."

"I think you're usually right," laughed Hood.

Whatever the cause, Tom seemed thoughtful and preoccupied for the rest
of the journey. He whistled some, and that was a sign that he was
thinking. Once he seemed on the point of saying something.

"Hood, do you----" he began. Then fell to whistling again.

And so in a little while they came to the cove.

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE MESSAGE

The altogether thrilling and extraordinary occurrence which is all that
remains to be told in this narrative, was witnessed by a dozen or more
scouts. It happened, as deeds of heroic impulse always happen, suddenly,
so that afterwards accounts differed as to just how th