"Your argument is unanswerable, Frank," said Dick. "I didn't expect such logic from you."
"Oh, I think I'm real bright at times."
"Despite popular belief," said Warner.
"I don't advertise my talents," said Pennington.
"But you ought to. They need it."
Dick laughed.
"Frank," he said, "I give you your own advice to me. Don't argue with him. With him the best proof that he's always right is because he thinks he is."
"I think clearly and directly, which can be said of very few of my friends," rejoined Warner.
Then all three of them laughed and lay down again, resting their heads on soft lumps of turf.
They were under the boughs of a fine oak, on which the leaves were yet thick. Birds, hidden among the leaves, began to sing, and the three, astonished, raised themselves up again. It was a chorus, beautiful and startling, and many other soldiers listened to the sound, so unlike that which they had been hearing all day.