The only other contents of the wallet were a small paper with blanks filled in, and an engraved calling card. The paper with the blanks filled in was so smeared from long moisture that the written parts were undecipherable. The paper was evidently a leave of absence from camp. The name was utterly blurred out, but by studying the smeared writing in the space where the date had been written the scouts thought they could determine the date, or at least part of it. _Sun--1918_ was all they could be sure of. But fortunately the calling card appeared to confirm this date. It was a card of fine quality and beautifully engraved with the name of Helen Shirley Bates. In the lower left hand corner was engraved Woodcliff, New Jersey. On the back of the card was written in a free feminine hand _For dinner Sunday April 14th, 1918. One o'clock._ "What do you make out of it? What does it mean? Who was he anyway?" the scouts, interrupting each other, asked, as these memorials of an unknown soldier boy were passed around from hand to hand and eagerly read. Of all the scouts Westy Martin, of Roy's Patrol, was the soberest and most thoughtful. He had the most balance. Not that Roy did not have balance, but he never had much on hand because he was continually losing it. "Whoever he was," Westy said, "it looks as if he got a leave of absence to go to the girl's house for dinner. Going this way would be a shortcut to Woodcliff. Maybe he was going to take the train up from New Milford." "I guess he was going to mail the letter to his mother in New Milford, hey?" Hunt Ward of the Elks suggested. "Yes, but why didn't he?" Doc Carson asked. "It's a mystery," said Pee-wee. "Do you know what I'm going to do?" "Break it to us gently," Roy said. "Some day soon I'm going to hike to Woodcliff and see that girl and find out what that soldier's name is and I'm going to send the letter to his mother." "What's the use of doing that?" Vic Norris asked. "The soldier has probably been home two years by now." "I don't care," Pee-wee insisted; "the letter is to his mother and I'm going to see that she gets it." "Are you going to get a soda while you're up at Woodcliff?" Roy asked him. "That's all right," Pee-wee said with great vehemence; "if you got a letter that went astray you'd want it, wouldn't you?" "You're talking in chunks," Roy said. "Go ahead and see the girl if you want to. I bet she'll think you're sweet. Only come ahead and let's get to camp." "Unanimously carried by a large majority," Dorry Benton said. "Mysteries aren't going to buy tar-paper for our old car." "There might have been a thousand dollars in this wallet," Pee-wee reminded them. "Except for one thing," Roy said. "And what's that?" Pee-wee asked. "That there wasn't," Roy said. "Put it in your pocket and come on."