"Didn't you ever see one before?" Tom asked.
"Not while I was conscious," Hervey shot back, "but if he likes to live
that way it's none of my business. He's inside taking a nap, I guess. He
had some rocky road to Dublin coming down. I wonder what he thinks? That
wasn't the right kind of a trail, was it?"
"Wasn't it?" Tom queried.
"No; I want a trail along the ground."
"Still after the Eagle, huh? Do you realize what you have done?"
"I've torn my suit all to shreds, I know that. Right the first time,
hey? I'd look nice going up on the platform Saturday night? Good I won't
have to, hey?"
"I thought you were going to," Tom said soberly.
"So I am," Hervey shot back at him; "trails up in the air don't count.
Never mind, I'll find a trail to-morrow. It's my troop I'm thinking of.
I'll land it, all right. When I get my mind on a thing.... Hey, Slady,
what in the dickens is that streak of red in the nest? Is it a trade
mark or something like that? You're a naturalist."
"It's an oriole's nest," Tom said, with just a note of good-humored
impatience in his voice. "I thought you'd know that."
"You see my head is full of the Eagle badge just now," Hervey pleaded,
"but I'm going to look up orioles."
Tom smiled.
"I'm going to look up orioles, and I'm going to get Doc to put some
iodine on my leg, and I'm going to do that tracking stunt to-morrow.
There's three things I'm going to do."
Tom paused, seemingly irresolute, as if not knowing whether to say what
was in his mind or not.
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