"Yes. I was in the small auto taking the films you gave me to the station, and I had just about time to catch the express when I saw this fellow turning out of one of the side streets of the camp."
"What fellow?" asked Blake.
"I don't know his name," answered Macaroni. "But he's a Frenchman sent here, I've heard, to help instruct our men. He's some sort of officer."
"And his machine ran into yours?" asked Blake.
"Smack into me!" answered his helper. "Knocked the box of films out on the road, and one wheel went over it. Cracked the box clean open, and, of course, as the film wasn't developed, it's light-struck now, and you'll have to take all those marching scenes over again!"
"That's bad!" murmured Joe. "Very bad!"
"Did you say it was an accident?" asked Blake pointedly.
"That's what he said," replied Charlie. "He made all sorts of apologies, admitted it was all his fault, and all that. And it was, too!" burst out Macaroni. "I guess I know how to be careful of undeveloped films! Great hopping hippodromes, if I couldn't drive a car any better than that Frenchman, I'd get out of the army! How he has any license to buy gasolene, I can't imagine! This is how it was," and he went into further details of the occurrence.
"I brought the films back, covering 'em with a black cloth as soon as I could," went on Charles; "but I guess it's too late."
"Let's have a look," suggested Blake. "It may not be so bad as you think."