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 shells, along the beach.

And there stood Tom, holding the memorial of Hervey