e testing a thing that's sure," Tom said.

"Yes?"

And still Barnard did not release his hand.'

"It's funny you didn't know about false fords," Tom said.

CHAPTER XXIV

TOM GOES ON AN ERRAND

Tom had intended to go down into camp for a strip of bandage and to see
Uncle Jeb, but since Barnard was so averse to having his mishap known
and to having visitors, he thought it better not to go down that night.
He did not like the idea of not mentioning his friend's accident to the
old camp manager. Tom had not been able to rid himself of a feeling that
Uncle Jeb did not wholly approve of the sprightly Barnard. He had no
good reason for any such supposition, but the feeling persisted. It made
him uncomfortable when occasionally the keen-eyed old plainsman had
strolled up to look things over, and he was always relieved when Uncle
Jeb went away. Tom could not for the life of him, tell why he had this
feeling, but he had it just the same.

So now, in order not to rouse his friend, who seemed at last to have
dozed off, he lingered by the dying embers of their fire. As the last
flickerings of the blaze subsided and the yellow fragments turned to
gray, then black, it seemed to Tom as if this fire symbolized the
petering out of that pleasant comradeship, now so close at hand. In his
heart, he longed to wait there and continue this friendship and be with
Roy and the others, as he had so often been at the big camp.

He had grown to admire and to like Barnard immensely. It was the liking
born of gratitude and close association, but it was the liking, also,
which the steady, dull, stolid nature is apt to feel for one who is
light and vivacious. Barnard's way of talking, particularly his own
brand of slang, was very captivating to sober Tom, who could do big
things but not little things. He had told himself many times that
Barnard's scouts "must be crazy about him." And Barnard had laughed and
said, "They _must_ be crazy if they like _me_...."

"He says I'm queer," Tom mused, "but he's queer, too, in a way. I guess
a lot of people don't understand him. It's because he's happy-go-lucky.
It's funny he didn't know about shadow bridges, because it's in the
handbook." Then Tom couldn't remember whether it was in the handbook or
not.... "Anyway, he's got the right idea about good turns," he
reflected. "I met lots of scouts that never read the handbook; I met
scoutmasters, too...."

And indeed there were few scouts, or scoutma