So if
that's all he's got to do to be a second-class scout, he's got the
badge already, and if anybody wants to know anything about it they
can ask me.
HERVEY WILLETTS,
Troop Cabin 13.
After scrawling this conclusive affidavit and placing it under a weight
on the desk of Mr. Wade, resident trustee, Hervey sauntered over to the
cabins occupied by the two patrols of his troop, the Leopards and the
Panthers. They were just getting ready to go to supper.
"Anything doing, Hervey?" his scoutmaster, Mr. Warren, asked him.
"Nothing doing," Hervey answered laconically.
"Maybe he doesn't know what you're talking about," one of his patrol,
the Panthers, suggested. This was intended as a sarcastic reference to
Hervey's way of losing interest in his undertakings before they were
completed.
"Have you got a trail--any tracks?" another asked.
Hervey began rummaging through his pockets and said, "I haven't got one
with me."
"You didn't happen to see that canoe in Council Shack, did you?" Mr.
Warren asked him.
"Yes, it's very nice," Hervey said.
Mr. Warren paused a moment, irresolute.
"Hervey," he finally said, "the boys think it's too bad that you should
fall down just at the last minute. After all you've accomplished, it
seems like--what shall I say--like Columbus turning back just before
land was sighted."
"He didn't turn back," Hervey said; "now there's one thing I didn't
forget--my little old history book.
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