Presently, the latter came back to his seat and got his staff.
“Did you think of a way?” asked Harry, laughing.
“Can’t tell yet,” said Gordon, as he went back up the aisle.
The car door opened and a sonorous voice called, “Poughkeepsie!”
Gordon stepped in between the seats, placing the end of his staff under the brass lift at the bottom of the sash. As the train slackened speed, he pressed gently on his lever. Suddenly the movement of the train became more abrupt, the cars shunted, there came the slight convulsive movement he had been waiting for, the staff was pressed quickly down just at the right second, the window creaked and rose.
In a moment more he was seated by his friend, volubly explaining the trick.
“If she doesn’t come when the train stops, try again when it starts and often that’ll fetch her. Only you’ve got to be careful to press just exactly at the right second—the physical moment, I think they call it.”
“That’s it,” said Arnold, and turned his face toward the window, laughing.
After they had left Albany there occurred another incident which, though trifling at the time, was destined to be long remembered. They were sitting comfortably back in their seats discussing their plan of campaign, when a boy of about sixteen came through the car. He was dressed in ordinary summer outing fashion save that he wore a scout hat, and as he passed the two boys he raised his right hand to his forehead and made the full salute to Harry. He was one of a long line of people carrying bundles, suitcases, and so forth, who were passing through the aisle, and it would have caused a slight interruption to the others had he paused. Probably for this reason he went straight on through the car and disappeared through the doorway.
“Yes,” answered Harry, “but this is what puzzles me—how did he know I am entitled to the full salute?”
“Only my hat’s upside down on my knees. Guess again.”
“Well,” said Gordon, “he knew you were a first-class man by your seamanship badge.”
“But how did he know I was patrol leader?”
The only conclusion they could reach was that the strange boy was a wonder. Every now and then they reverted to it, and one or the other would suggest going back through the train to hunt him up and ask him how he knew that Harry Arnold was patrol leader. But they invariably settled back satisfied with the observation that the boy was a “winner” until finally Gordon shouted: