The three days before Major Vaughan's return promised to pass on leaden wings, but in reality they flew merrily enough. Not only was there a general furbishing-up of the camp to be seen to, for "Dad," as the boys said, "was sure to be as jolly keen on it as they were," but a new and unexpected occupation suddenly presented itself to the company.  
Hitherto Dick had been considered in the light of an un-get-at-able invalid, who could be written to, and to whom messages might be sent through Mrs. Vaughan, but who was, otherwise, as inaccessible as though he had been still at his home in the far north. Now, however, with the removal of the convalescent to the "river-room" in the east wing, things changed. From breakfast till bedtime the now recovering invalid stood glued to his bedroom window watching with interested eyes practically everything that the campers were doing. The Cottage was in full view of his window, so was the camp fire. "It seems strange, doesn't it?" said Peter, "that there's Dick looking on, and here are we, feeling awfully chummy with him, and all that, but we've never spoken to him in our lives!"
 
"Good idea!" shouted Donald; into the hut he raced, appearing presently with a flag with which he began signalling to his brother. The latter seemed to twig the idea instantly; he disappeared from the window, and appeared again, bearing what was certainly nothing more or less than a bath-towel; vigorous flag-wagging ensued between the brothers for a few minutes, while the Vaughans looked interestedly on.
 
"I say," said Robin, "you can do Morse like lightning. I could hardly follow half of it. No wonder you've got your Signalling Badges! What were you saying?"
 
"I asked him how he found himself this morning, and he says that he feels topping, and never better, and wishes the peeling were over, and would give a jolly lot to be camping with the rest of us," explained Donald.
 
"Let me have a try," begged Peter; but his skill in signalling was slight; and Robin, who tried next, had had little experience. Donald tried again. "I say, he says," he interpreted after a vigorous few minutes, "that you two need practice, and he says why don't you let him practice with you while he's shut up there with nothing to do. You'd probably soon pass your tests if you did. Minimum is 24 letters per minute for Morse, you know, and 36 for Semaphore. He knows both, and he'd coach you from his side, and I'd coach you here."
 
"Rather!" the three Vaughans were unanimous. "There's a Signaller's Badge for Guides, too!" said Jan. "I say, what fun!"
 
By the time that dusk fell on the evening of the first day, hiding the east wing signaller from his pupils, the latter had certainly gained ground after a hard day's work. Next morning, before breakfast, Peter, after flying out with his flag to bid D............