ing badge?" said Roy.

"Oh, yes, I managed to pull that; I'm out for the star now."

"You'll get it," said Tom.

"Is the kid all right?" Roy asked.

"Oh, sure; but he had some pretty rough handling, I guess. It was quite
a little movie show when we dragged the other one out. Lucky the station
agent and the constable were there. He's up there now waiting for the
men from Ossining."

Through the surging crowd Tom and Roy could see, sitting on a bench at
the station, a man in convict garb, with his hands manacled together and
a guard on either side of him. In the broad light of day he was a
desperate-looking creature, as he sat with his ugly head hanging low,
apparently oblivious to all about him.

"I don't understand," said Roy.

"Didn't you know about him?"

"Not a thing--except we did know someone got away from Sing Sing the
other night--but we never thought----"

"Didn't you know he was in the same car? That's why the little fellow
couldn't get away. He'd have come back to you, sure."

Roy doubted it, but he said nothing and presently the mystery was
cleared up by the arrival on the scene of Pee-wee himself, accompanied
by several scouts. They were laughing merrily and seemed greatly elated
that the boat had come; but Pee-wee was rather embarrassed and held back
until Roy dragged him forward.

"Kiddo," said he, looking straight into the boy's face, "the _Good Turn_
couldn't have lived another day without you. So you did hit the railroad
after all, didn't you? Gee, it's good to see you; you've caused us more
worry----" he put his arm over Pee-wee's shoulder and turned away with
him, and the others, being good scouts, had sense enough not to follow.

"Pee-wee," said Roy, "don't try to tell me--that can wait. Listen,
kiddo. We're in the same boat, you and I. We each wrote a letter that we
shouldn't have written, but yours was received and mine wasn't--thanks
to Tom. We've got to forget about both those letters, Pee-wee. I was
ashamed of mine before I'd finished writing it. There's no good talking
about it now. You're with us because we want you with us, not because
Mary Temple wanted it, but because _I_ want you and Tom wants you; do
you hear? You know who it is that's always doing something for someone
and never getting any credit for it, don't you? It's Tom Slade. He saved
me from being a crazy fool--from sending that letter to Mary. And I came
to my senses the next day. He tracked you to that car, only it