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A faint flush came into the cheeks of young Campe.

“It’s an unusual thing to come upon one who knows anything of the Count’s life or doings,” said he. “I agree with you that the historians do not make the most of the exploit of the ford, nor do they give him any of the credit that is his due in other matters. It is my intention to write his biography some day; and I hope in that way to give him, in some small part at least, the place among the great outlanders which is rightfully his.”

“Splendid!” applauded the crime specialist, while Bat Scanlon stood by and looked and listened in amazement. “That’s a fine idea. The romance of two periods, and of three countries is in your hands. Such things are done too seldom in this day; in our hurry and bustle we have no time for the heroes of the past.”

Young Campe looked at Sergeant-Major Kretz. But the grim face of the German was turned away; it was as though he knew what was to be asked in the look, and so saved himself the mortification of giving advice which he felt would not be taken.