s. I didn't see any reason for keeping it secret. He isn't a German.
If he had been I'd have kept quiet. But he's an accredited
representative from the French Government, and is supposed to be quite a
fighter. I thought he knew how to run an auto, but he backed and filled,
came up on the wrong side of the road, and then plunged into me. Then he
said his steering gear went back on him.

"Mighty funny if it did, for it was all right just before and right
after the accident. He was all kinds of ways sorry about it, offered to
pay for the damage, and all that. I told him that wouldn't take the
pictures over again."

"And it won't," agreed Blake. "That's the worst of it! Did you say you
had seen this Frenchman before, Mac?"

"Yes; he's been around camp quite a while. You must have seen him too,
you and Joe; but I guess you were so busy you didn't notice. He wears a
light blue uniform, with a little gold braid on it, and he has one of
those leather straps from his shoulder."

"You mean a bandolier," suggested Joe.

"Maybe that's it," admitted Macaroni. "Anyhow, he's a regular swell, and
he goes around a lot with the other camp officers. They seem to think he
knows a heap about war. But, believe me, he doesn't know much about
running an auto--or else he knows too much."

"Well, seeing that he's the guest of this camp, and probably of Uncle
Sam, we can't make too much of a row," observed Blake. "I'll go and tell
the commandant about the accident, and have him arrange for taking a new
series of views. It's too bad, but it can't be helped."

"It could have been helped if anybody with common sense had been running
that auto, instead of a frog-eating, parlevooing Frenchman!" cried
Macaroni, who was much excited over the affair.

"That's no way to talk about one of our Allies," cautioned Joe.

"Humph!" was all Charles answered, as he looked at the wrecked box of
film. "I s'pose he'll claim it was partly my fault."

"Well, we know it wasn't," returned Blake consolingly. "Come on, we'll
get ready to do it over again; but, from the way Mr. Hadley wrote in his
last letter, he'll be sorry about the delay."

"Is he eager for you to get over on the other side?" asked the helper.

"Yes. And I understand he asked if you wanted to go along as our
assistant, Mac."

"He did? First I wasn't going, but now I believe I will. I don't want to
stay on the same side of the pond with that Frenchman! He may run into
me again."

"Don't b