A flare shot up into the night, and by its light the two motionless officers close to the pollard looked at what they had found.
"How the devil did he get here!" muttered Seymour. "It's one of my men."
"Was he anywhere near you when you kicked the telephone?" asked the other, and his voice was a little hoarse.
"He may have been—I don't know. Why?"
"Look at his right hand." From the tightly clenched fingers two broken ends of wire stuck out.
"Poor lad." The Major bit his lip. "Poor lad—I wonder. They called him the Company Idiot. Do you think...?"
"I think he came out to find the break in the wire," said the other quietly. "And in doing so he found the answer to the big riddle."
"I knew he'd make good—I knew it all along. He used to dream of big things—something big for the regiment."
"And he's done a big thing, by Jove," said the signal officer gruffly, "for it's the motive that counts. And he couldn't know that he'd got the wrong wire."