life
apart, seeing them only at intervals, and so the coldness continued. As
the time drew near for the troop to leave, Tom fancied that the feeling
against him was stronger because they were thinking of the extra time
they might have had along with the honor they had lost, but he was
sensitive and possibly imagined that. He sometimes wondered if Roy and
the others were gratified to know that these good friends of their happy
journey to camp could remain longer. But the camp was so large and the
Honor Troop stayed so much by itself that the Bridgeboro boys hardly
realized what it meant to that little patrol up at Hero Cabin. Tom often
thought wistfully of the pleasant cruise up the river and wondered if
Roy and Pee-wee thought of it as they made their plans to go home in the
_Good Turn_.

Two friends Tom had, at all events, and these were Jeb Rushmore and
Garry Everson. The Honor Troop was composed mostly of small boys and all
except the little boy who was Garry's especial charge were in Tom's
tracking class. He used to put them through the simpler stunts and then
turn them over to Jeb Rushmore. Apparently, they did not share the
general prejudice and he liked to be with them.

One afternoon he returned with three or four of these youngsters and
lingered on the hill to chat with Garry. He had come to feel more at
home here than anywhere else.

"How's the kid?" Tom asked, as the sandy haired boy came out of the
cabin and passed him without speaking.

"Fine. You ought to see him eat. He's a whole famine in himself. You
mustn't mind him," he added; "he has notions."

"Oh," said Tom, "I'm used to being snubbed. It just amuses me in his
case."

"How's tracking?"

"Punk. There's so much dust you can't make a track. What we need is
rain, so we can get some good plain prints. That's the only way to teach
a tenderfoot. Jeb says dust ought to be good enough, but he's a fiend."

"He could track an aeroplane," said Garry. "Everything's pretty dry, I
guess."

"You'd say so," said Tom, "if you were down through those east woods.
You could light a twig with a sun glass. They're having forest fires up
back of Tannerstown."

"I saw the smoke," said Garry.

"There's a couple of hoboes down the cut a ways; we tracked them today,
cooking over a loose fire. I tried to get them to cut it out; told 'em
they'd have the whole woods started. They only laughed. I'm going to
report it to J. R."

"They on the camp land?"

"If the