"He certainly is. He looks older than that, to me. Have you ever
noticed anything funny about the way he talks?"

"No. Why? Have you?"

"I'm not sure. But sometimes it seems to me he talks more like
the people do in a book than you and I do. I wonder why he
doesn't like me?" pondered Harry.

"Oh, he likes you as well as he does anyone, Harry. He didn't
mean anything, I fancy, when he said that about your being chosen
just now. He was squiffed because Mr. Wharton didn't take him,
that's all. He thinks he ought to be ahead of everyone."

"Well, I didn't ask to be chosen. I'm glad I was, of course, but
I didn't expect to be. I think perhaps Leslie Franklin asked Mr.
Wharton to take me."

"Of course he did! Why shouldn't he?"

Just then the coming of the train cut them short. From almost
every window men in uniform looked out. A few of the soldiers
laughed at their scout garb, but most of them only smiled gravely,
and as if they were well pleased. The two scouts made for the
nearest compartment, and found, when they were in it, that it
was a first-class carriage, already containing two young officers
who were smoking and chatting together.

"Hullo, young 'uns!" said one of the officers. "Off to the war?"