Thad stepped forward. The others saw him bend over the big rock that had just played such a queer trick, narrowly missing falling among the gathered scouts.
"Look at Thad, would you?" exclaimed Step Hen.
"What's he taking out of that crack in the rock?" Giraffe added. "Say, looks like a dirty piece of paper; and that's what it is, sure as shootin', fellers!"
"A message from the enemy; p'raps he's goin' to Surrender unconditionally—ain't that the way they always put it?" Bumpus called out, in high glee.
Thad, however, after glancing down at the paper he had extracted from the crack in the rock, looked serious. Evidently to him at least it was no laughing matter.
"What does she say, Thad?" demanded Giraffe, always curious.
"Sure, if we've got any right to know, read it out, Mr. Scout Master," Bumpus echoed, in his merry way, his eyes shining with eagerness.
The scouts clustered around Thad as he once again held the scrap of soiled paper up so he could see the comparatively few words scrawled upon it with a pencil, that must have been a mere stub, since it evidently had to be frequently wet in order to make it do duty.
"It's brief, and to the point, I give you my word, boys," he said. "Here, let me hold it up, and every one of you can push in to read for yourselves. The writer believes in making his words correspond with their sound. With that for a tip you ought to be able to make it out."
And this, then, was what they read, as they bunched together on the mountain road running through the valley of the Smoky Range: