"Funny thing, did you ever hear how the eyes of a dead man reflect the last thing he saw? I know over in France they often saw images in the eyes of dead soldiers. Near Toul, where I was stationed, they carried in a dead Frenchy and you could see an airplane in his eyes just as sure as day."
"Did you—did you ever see anything like that?"
"Oh, sure. Ask any army surgeon or nurse."
Hood did not seem altogether satisfied with the answer. He was clearly perturbed. But he did not venture another question, and for a few minutes neither spoke.
"Another thing, too, speaking of France," said Tom. "We could always pick out a fellow that came over from England as soon as they set him to driving an ambulance. He'd always go plunk over to the left side of the road. You know they have to keep to the left over there instead of to the right——"
"Yes, I know——" Hood began, and stopped short.
"Been over there, eh?"
"I'm not English, but I lived there several years, and drove a car."
"Yes?" Tom laughed. "Well, now, I just noticed how you kept edging over to the left. I didn't think anything about your coming from England, but I just happened to notice it. Takes a long time to get a habit out of your nut, doesn't it? People might say you were reckless and all that when really it would just be that habit that you couldn't get away from. I've got so as I can tell a Pittsburgh scout, or a Canadian scout just from little things—little habits."
"You're a pretty keen observer," said Hood; "that about the eyes of a dead person interests me. When you made that discovery up on the mountain, do you mean——"