“Have you got your flashlight?” Warde asked.
“Sure,” Roy whispered. “Walk softly.”
They entered the sleeping shack, “Blythe’s Bunk,” and tiptoed to the spot where Blythe usually lay. Then Roy turned on his light.
The two scouts stood appalled, speechless. Blythe’s old shabby coat which he always folded and used as a pillow was there with the depression made by his head still in it. But Blythe had gone away....
Edition of 1910, containing much interesting and important matter omitted from subsequent editions.
CHAPTER XXI
THE DIAGONAL MARK
Warde had always his wits with him. “Shh, don’t wake up the troop,” he whispered. “Come outside.”
“We’ll need them all–alarm–” Roy whispered excitedly.