"Is that fair to the troop, Hervey? Is it fair to yourself? It isn't lack of ability; if it was I wouldn't speak of it. But it's because you tire of a thing before it's finished. Think of the things you learned in winning those twenty badges--the Morse Code, life saving, carpentry work. How many of those things do you remember now? You have forgotten them all--lost interest in them all. I said nothing because I knew you were after the Eagle badge with both hands and feet, but now you see you have tired of that--right on the threshold of victory. You can't blame the boys, Hervey, now can you?"

"Tracks are not so easy to find," Hervey said, somewhat subdued.

"They are certainly not easy to find if you don't look for them," Mr.

Warren retorted, not unpleasantly. "I heard a boy in camp say only this evening that that queer little duck in the Bridgeboro troop had found some tracks near the lake and started to follow them. There is no pair of eyes in camp better than yours, Hervey. But you know you can't expect to find animal tracks down in the village."

"In the village?"

"Two or three of your own patrol saw you down there a week ago, Hervey; saw you run out of a candy store to follow a runaway horse. You know, Hervey, horses' tracks aren't the kind you're after. Those boys were observant. They were on their way to the post office. I heard them telling Tom Slade about it."

"What did _he_ say--Tom Slade?" Hervey queried.

"Oh, he didn't say anything; he never says much. But I think he likes you, Hervey, and he'll be disappointed."

"You think he will?"

"You know, Hervey, Tom Slade never won his place by jumping from one thing to another. The love of adventure and something new is good, but responsibility to one's troop, to oneself, is more important. How will your father feel about the bicycle he had looked forward to giving you?

You see, Hervey, you regarded the winning of the Eagle award as an adventure, whereas the troop regarded it as a commission--a commission entailing responsibility."

"I'm not so stuck on eagles," said Hervey, repeating Tom Slade's very words. "There might be something better than the Eagle award, you can't tell."

"Oh, Hervey, my boy, don't talk like that, and above all, don't let the boys hear you talk like that. There's nothing better than to finish what you begin--_nothing_. You know, Hervey, I understand you thoroughly.

You're a wizard for stunts, but you're weak on responsibility. Now you've got some new stunt on your mind, and the troop doesn't count. Am I right?"

Hervey did not answer.

"And now the chance has nearly pa.s.sed. Tomorrow we all go to the college regatta on the Hudson, the next day is camp clean-up and we've all got to work, and the next night, awards. Even if you were to do the unexpected now, I don't know whether we could get the matter through and pa.s.sed on for Sat.u.r.day night. I'm disappointed with you, Hervey, and so are the boys. We all expected to see Mr. Temple hand you the Eagle badge on Sat.u.r.day night. I expected to send your father a wire. Walley has been planning to take our picture as an Eagle troop."

"Well, and you'll all be disappointed," said Hervey with a kind of heedlessness that nettled his scoutmaster. "And if anybody should ask you about it, any of the troop, you can just say that I found out something and that I'm not so stuck on the Eagle award, after all.

That's what you can tell them."

"Well, I will tell them no such thing, for I would be ashamed to tell them that. I think we all know what the highest honor is. Perhaps the boys are not such reckless young adventurers as you, but they know what the highest scout honor is. And I think if you will be perfectly honest with me, Hervey, you'll acknowledge that something new has caught your fancy. Come now, isn't that right?"

"Right the first time," said Hervey with a gayety that quite disgusted his scoutmaster.

"Well, go your way, Hervey," he said coldly.

CHAPTER XVII

HERVEY GOES HIS WAY

So Hervey went his way alone, and a pretty lonesome way it was. The members of his troop made no secret of their disappointment and annoyance, he was clearly an outsider among them, and Mr. Warren treated him with frosty kindness. Hervey had been altogether too engrossed in his mad career of badge-getting to cultivate friends, he was always running on high, as the scouts of camp said, and though everybody liked him none had been intimate with him. He felt this now.

In those two intervening days between his adventure in the elm tree and the big pow-wow on Sat.u.r.day night, he found a staunch friend in little Skinny, who followed him about like a dog. They stuck together on the bus ride down to the regatta on the Hudson and were close companions all through the day.

Hervey did not care greatly for the boat races, because he could not be in them; he had no use for a race unless he could win it. So he and Skinny fished for a while over the rail of the excursion boat, but Hervey soon tired of this, because the fish would not cooperate. Then they pitched ball on the deck, but the ball went overboard and Mr.

Warren would not permit Hervey to dive in after it. So he made a wager with Skinny that he could shinny up the flag-pole, but was foiled in his attempt by the captain of the boat. Thus he was driven to the refuge of conversation.

Balancing himself perilously on the rail in an unfrequented part of the steamer, he asked Skinny about the coveted award. "They're not going to put you through a lot of book sprints, are they?" he inquired.

"I'm going to get it Sat.u.r.day night," Skinny said. "I bet all my troop will like me then, won't they? I have to stand up straight when I go on the platform. Some fellows get a lot of clapping when they go on the platform. I know two fellows that are going to clap when I go on. Will you clap when I go on? Because I like you a lot."

"I'll stamp with both feet," said Hervey.

"And will you clap?"

"When you hear me clap you'll think it's a whole troop."

"I bet your troop think a lot of you."

"They could be arrested if they said out loud what they think of me."

"My father got arrested once."

"Well, I hope they won't trip you up. That was a fine stunt you did, Skinny. When those trustees and scoutmasters once get busy with the handbook, _good night_, it reminds you of boyhood's happy school days."

"It's all on page thirty," Skinny said; "and I've done all of those ten things, because the tracking made ten, and Mr. Elting said as long as you said you saw me do it, it's all right, because he knows you tell the truth."

"Well, that's one good thing about me," Hervey laughed.

"And he said you came near winning the Eagle award, too. He said you only just missed it. I bet you're a hero, ain't you?"

"Some hero."

"A boy said you gave the eagle a good run for it, even if you didn't get it. He said you came near it."

Hervey just sat on the rail swinging his legs. "I came pretty near the eagle, that's right," he said; "and if I'd got a little nearer I'd have choked his life out. That's how much I think of the eagle."

Skinny looked as if he did not understand.

"Did you see that bird that Tom Slade got? He got the nest and all. It's hanging in the elm tree near the pavilion. There's an oriole in that nest."

"Get out!"

"Didn't you see it yet?"

"Nope."

"All the fellows saw it. That bird has got a name like the one you called me."

"Asbestos?"

"Something like that. Why did you call me that name--Asbestos?"

"Well, because you're more important than an eagle. See?"