in't that they do it on purpose," he added; "it's
because it's in their heads, like. They don't always make regular
fleur-de-lis, but they make that kind of curves. He told me a lot about
Napoleon, too," he added irrelevantly.

"So when I happened to think about that, I looked around to see if I
could find anything to prove it, kind of. It don't make any difference
if the German flag _is_ on that pole; they've _got_ to do that. When I
saw the topknot was carved kind of like a fleur-de-lis I knew French
people must have made it. And it was only carved lately, too," he added
simply, "'cause the wood is fresh."

"Gee whillicums, but you're a peach, Slady!" said Archer ecstatically.
"Shall we take a chance?"

"Of course I don't know for sure," Tom added, "but we've got to go by
signs--just like Indian signs along a trail. If you pick up an old flint
arrowhead you know you're on an Indian trail."

"Christopherr _Columbus!_ But I'd like to find one of those arrowheads
now!" said Archer.

CHAPTER XVI

THE WEAVER OF MERNON

But for all these fine deductions, you are not to suppose that Tom and
Archer approached the little house without trepidation. The nearer they
came to it the less dependable seemed Tom's theory.

"It might be all right in a story book," Archer said, backsliding into
dismal apprehensions. But before he had a chance to lose his courage Tom
had knocked softly on the door. They could hear a scuffling sound inside
and then the door was opened cautiously by a little stooping old man
with a pale, deeply wrinkled face, and long, straight white hair. From
his ragged peasant's attire he must have been very poor and the
primitive furnishings in the dimly lighted room, of which they caught a
glimpse, confirmed this impression. But he had a pair of keen blue eyes
which scrutinized the travellers rather tremulously, evidently supposing
them to be German soldiers.

"What have I done?" he asked fearfully in German.

Tom wasted no time trying to understand him, but bringing forth his iron
button he held it out silently.

The effect was electrical; the old man clutched the button eagerly and
poured forth a torrent of French as he dragged the boys one after the
other into his poor abode and shut the door.

"We're Americans," said Tom. "We can't understand."

"It iss all ze same," said the man. "I will talk in ze American. How you
came with ziss button--yess? Who have sent you?"

To Tom's surprise he s