"You needn't say a word."
"The War department has the letters," said Nestor, "the letters the
diplomat did not secure from Mr. Cameron. I don't know why he did
not get them, I'm sure. They were in a drawer of the big desk.
It is quite probable, however, that he was frightened away, as the
others were. That must have been quite early in the evening, and
who it was that scared him away is what is puzzling me."
CHAPTER X.
THE WOLF MEETS A PANTHER.
The ragged soldiers halted when they came to where the amazed
Jimmie stood, and in a moment were joined by the drummer, a
slender boy of fourteen, who looked worn out.
When he saw Jimmmie he smiled and saluted by extending the
right arm horizontally, palm out, three fingers vertical,
with the thumb and little finger crossed on the palm.
"Where did you get that?" demanded Jimmie.
"Did stunts for it," was the reply. "And look here."
The drummer swept his left hand down his right sleeve,
tapping half a dozen badges. These were those worn by
Boy Scouts who had passed as Fireman, Signaller, Pioneer,
Marksman, Horseman, and Musician. The officer in charge
of the squad looked on with an amused smile as the drummer
exhibited his honors.
"The kid is crazy over the Boy Scouts," he said. "He's been
hunting for comrades among the Mexicans, and I reckon he
found a few, at that. Well, I'm in favor of the organization
myself. It teaches, honor, manhood, self-reliance, and has
made a man of many a flat-chested, cigarette-smoking youth.
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