They went over to a tall man in khaki, who was speaking to an officer in the red and blue uniform of the French army. Henri saluted, and when the officer went away, the scoutmaster turned to him with a smile.
"Well—so you are here, Martin," he said. "Are you going to join? We will waive formalities—we need all the scouts we can get."
"Yes, sir, and I have brought a recruit. He is half French—the rest of him is American. But he wants to join, too. May he?"
"Certainly," said the scoutmaster. "Report to-night or in the morning. Get your uniforms. Who is your recruit?"
Frank was introduced, and the tall Frenchman shook hands with him.
"You will be welcome," he said. "My boys are at work, you see. They are serving as messengers. There has been plenty for us to do in these days, too. Pray God there may not be more—and of a less pleasant sort."
Frank observed the French scouts with interest. They were in khaki uniforms, with wool stockings, and short trousers that stopped just above the knee, and the soft campaign hats made famous by the pioneer scouts in England. Indeed, they looked like the English and American scouts in many respects.
"One moment," said Marron, checked by a sudden thought. "You speak French well?" He asked the question of Frank, who smiled.
"Yes, sir," he said, in French. "My mother was French, you see."
"That is very good," said the scoutmaster. "Never fear, I shall be able to keep you busy as long as I am here. Soon, I hope, they will let me go to the front, where I should be right now."