ey's nature to make any claims or boasts. He soon forgot the
episode, as he forgot almost everything else that he had done and got
through with. Glory for its own sake was nothing to him. He had climbed
the tree and got his scout suit torn into shreds and that was
satisfaction to him.

The next and last day before that momentous Saturday was camp clean-up
day, for with the lake events on Labor Day the season would about close.
All temporary stalking signs were taken down, original conveniences in
and about the cabins were removed, troop and patrol fire clearings were
raked over, two of the three large mess boards were stored away, and
most of the litter cleared up generally. What was done in a small way
each morning was done in a large way on this busy day, and every scout
in camp did his share.

Hervey worked with his own troop, the members of which gave him scant
attention. If they had ignored him altogether it would have been better
than according him the cold politeness which they showed. No doubt their
disappointment and humiliation were keen, and they showed it.

"What'll I do with this eagle flag?" one of them called, as he displayed
an emblem with an eagle's head upon it, which one of the sisters of one
of the boys had made in anticipation of the great event.

"Send it back to her," another shouted. "We ought to have a flag with a
chicken's head on it. We counted our chickens before they were hatched."

"_Some_ fall-down; we should worry," another said, busy at his tasks.

"Eagle fell asleep at the switch, didn't you, Eagle?"

They called him Eagle in a kind of ironical contempt, and it cut him
more than anything else that they said.

"Eagle with clipped wings, hey?" one of the troop wits observed.

"Help us take down this troop pole, will you?" Will Connor, Hervey's
patrol leader, called. "We should bother about the eagle; our eagle
isn't hatched yet."

"Some eggs are rotten," one of the Panthers retorted, which created a
general laugh.

Hervey turned scarlet at this and his hands trembled on the oven stone
which he was casting away. He dropped it and stood up straight, only to
confront the stolid face of the young camp assistant looking straight at
him.

"Getting all cleared up?" Tom asked in his usual sober but pleasant way.

Hervey Willetts was about to fly off the handle but something in Tom's
quiet, keen glance deterred him.

"You fellows going home soon?"

"Tuesday morning," volunteered