"Guess so," Tom said.

"You see I'm all through bird study," Hervey said with amusing artlessness, "so I think you'd better adopt Erastus--is that the way you say it?"

"Orestes," Tom corrected him.

"Pardon _me_," Hervey said.

"Maybe you don't even care if I tell them what you did?" Tom queried.

"Tell them whatever you want," Hervey said. "I don't care. What I'm thinking now is----"

"The next stunt," Tom interrupted him.

"You said it," Hervey answered cheerily; "just about a mile or so of tracks. I guess you think I'm kind of happy-go-lucky, don't you?"

"I don't blame you for not remembering all the things you've done," Tom said, "and all the rules and tests and like that. But most every scout goes in for some particular thing. Maybe it's first aid, or maybe it's signaling. And he keeps on with that thing even after he has the badge."

"That's right," Hervey concurred with surprising readiness. "You've got the right idea. My specialty is the Eagle badge. See?"

"Well, that's twenty-one badges," Tom said.

"Right-o, and all I need to do now is test three for the stalking badge and I'm _it_. And if I can't go over the top between now and this time Sat.u.r.day, I'll never look the fellows in my troop in the face again, that's what."

Tom whistled to himself a moment as they strolled along. Perhaps he knew more than he wished to say. Perhaps he was just a little out of patience with this sprightly, irresponsible young hero.

"Well, there isn't much time," he said.

"That's the trouble, Slady, and it's got me guessing."

CHAPTER XI

OFF ON A NEW TACK

It is doubtful if ever there was a scout at Temple Camp for whom Tom felt a greater interest or by whom he was more attracted than by this irrepressible boy whose ready prowess he had just witnessed. And the funny part of it was that no two persons could possibly have been more unlike than these two. Hervey even got on Tom's nerves somewhat by his blithe disregard of the handbook side of scouting, except for what it was worth to him in his stuntful career.

The handbook was almost a sacred volume to sober Tom. Still, he was captivated by Hervey, as indeed others were in the big camp.

"Well, you were after the Eagle and you got an oriole," he said, half jokingly. "That's what I meant when I said that sometimes you don't know where a trail will bring you out. You got a lot to learn about scouting. What you did to-day was better than tracking a half a mile or so."

"The pleasure is mine," said Hervey, in bantering acknowledgment of the compliment, "but if there's anything higher in scouting than the Eagle award, I'd like to know what it is."

"How much good has it done you trying for it?" Tom asked. "n.o.body is supposed to go after a thing in scouting the same as he does in a game.

He's supposed to learn things why he's going after something," he added in his clumsy way. "You went through the bird study test and you didn't even know it was an oriole's nest that you rescued. And you forgot all about something else too, and it makes me laugh when I think about it; when I think about you and your tracks."

"You think I'm a punk scout," Hervey sang out, gayly.

"I think you're a bully scout," Tom said.

"If I win the Eagle you'll say so, won't you?"

"Maybe."

"And do you mean to tell me that a scout can be any more of a scout than that--an Eagle Scout?"

"Sure," said Tom uncompromisingly.

For a few seconds the young hero of the lofty elm was too astonished to reply. Then he said, "Gee, you're a peachy scout, everybody says that, but you're a funny kind of a fellow, that's what _I_ think. I don't get you. The Eagle award is the highest award in scouting. It means, oh, it means a couple of hundred stunts--hard ones. You can't get above that.

You're one yourself, you can't deny it. No, sir, you can't get above that--no, _siree_.... Do you mean to tell me that there's anything higher in scouting than the Eagle award?" he asked defiantly, after a pause.

"Yop, there is," said Tom, unmoved.

Hervey paused in consternation. "Well, I'm for the Eagle award, anyway,"

he finally said. "That's good enough for _me_. And I'm going to get it, too; right away, quick."

"You'll get it," Tom said.

"Think I will?"

"I don't think, I know."

"You mean you're _sure_ I will?"

"That's what I said."

"_Positive?_"

"That's what I said."

"Well, then I'd better get busy hunting for some tracks, hadn't I? I've got to make good to _you_ as well as to my troop, haven't I?"

"You ask a lot of questions," said Tom in his funny, sober way. "You don't need to make good with me."

"Believe _me_, I've got you and my troop both on my mind now. Are you going to give me a tip about some tracks?"

"Maybe--to-morrow," Tom said.

"Do you know what I think I'll do, Slady?" Hervey suddenly vociferated as if caught by an inspiration. "I think I'll follow this ledge around a little way and see if there are any prints. Good idea, hey?"

This was too much for Tom. "Aren't you coming back to camp with me?" he asked. "They'll want to hear about your adventure. It's getting pretty late, too."

"Oh, I'm a regular night owl," Hervey said. "You take Asbestos back to camp and hang him up in a tree and I'll blow in later. I'm going on the war path for tracks. So long."

Before Tom had recovered from his surprise, Hervey was picking his way along the rocky ledge at the base of the mountain, apparently oblivious to all that had happened, and intent upon a rambling quest for tracks.

It was quite characteristic of him that he based his search upon no hint or well considered plan, but went looking for the tracks of a wild animal as one will hunt for sh.e.l.ls, along the beach.