the Panthers' patrol leader. "We usually
don't stick to the finish. We're a troop of quitters, you know."

"What did you quit?" asked Tom, taking his informant literally.

"Oh, never mind."

"It's all right, as long as you don't quit each other," Tom said, and
strolled on to inspect the work of the other troops.

Hervey followed him and in a kind of reckless abandonment said, "Well,
you see you were wrong after all--I don't care. You said I'd win it. So
I put one over on you, anyway," he laughed in a way of mock triumph.
"Tom Slade is wrong for once; how about that? The rotten egg put one
over on you. See? I'm the rotten egg--the rotten egg scout. I should
bother my head!"

"Go back and pick up those stones, Willetts," said Tom quietly, "and
pile them up down by the woodshed."

"You didn't even tell them I saved that little bird, did you?" Hervey
said, giving way to his feelings of recklessness and desperation. "What
do you suppose _I_ care? I don't care what anybody thinks. I do what I
do when I do it; that's me! I don't care a hang about your old
badges--I----"

"Hervey," said Tom; "go back and pile up those stones like I told you.
And don't get mad at anybody. You do just what I tell you."

"Did you hear----"

"Yop. And I tell you to go back there and keep calm. I'm not interested
in badges either; I'm interested in scouts. They'll never be able to
make a badge to fit you. Now go back and do what I told you. Who's
running this show? You or I?"

CHAPTER XIX

THE GALA DAY

As long as the cheerful blaze near the lakeside gathers its scouts about
it on summer evenings, Temple Camp will never forget that memorable
Saturday night. It is the one subject on which the old scout always
discourses to the new scout when he takes him about and shows him the
sights.

The one twenty-two train from the city brought John Temple, founder of
Temple Camp, sponsor of innumerable scout enterprises, owner of
railroads, banks, and goodness knows what all. He was as rich as the
blackberry pudding of which Pee-wee Harris (official cut-up of the
Ravens) always ate three helpings at mess.

His coming was preceded by telegrams going in both directions, talks
over the long distance 'phone, and when at last he came in all his
glory, a rainbow troop consisting of honor scouts was formed to go down
to Catskill Landing and greet him. One scout who would presently be
handed the Gold Cross for life saving was among the number