oney or something--testimony,
that's it. Something big is going to happen in my young life."

"You'll go back?" Gilbert asked anxiously.

"Sure, if Robin Hood can go with me. Love me, love my dog."

"I don't want to go there," said the young fellow; "you kids better go."

"Then that's the end of the red cross," said Hervey, still swinging. "I
mean the Gold Cross or the double cross or whatever you call it.
What'd'you say, Hoody? They have good eats there. Will you come and see
me cop the cross?"

"He just happened to blow in here," said the stranger, by way of
explaining Hervey's presence to Gilbert. "I was knocking around in the
woods and bunking in here."

Gilbert was a little puzzled, but he did not ask any questions. He was
thoughtful and tactful. He had a pretty good line on Hervey's nature,
too.

"Of course, Hervey has to go back," he said, as much for Hervey's
benefit as for the stranger's. "I say all three of us go. You'll like
to see the camp----"

"They've got a washed-out cove and an oven for making marshmallows, and
a scoutmasters' meeting-place with a drain-pipe you can climb up to the
roof on, 'n everything," said Hervey in a spirit of fairness toward the
camp and its attractions. "They've got messboards you can do
hand-springs on when the cook isn't around. I bet you can't do the
double flop, Hoody."

"Well, then, we'll all go?" Gilbert asked rather anxiously.

Hervey spread out his arms by way of saying that anything that suited
Gilbert and the stranger would suit him.

So the three started off to camp, the stranger rather hesitating,
Gilbert highly elated with his success, and Hervey perfectly agreeable
to anything which meant action.

It was characteristic of Hervey that he really had not the faintest idea
of why he was to be honored with the highest scout award. He had
apparently forgotten all about his almost superhuman exploit. He would
never have mentioned it nor thought of it. He did recall it in that
moment of humiliation when Mr. Denny had talked with him. But he would
not speak of it even then. He would suffer disgrace first. And how much
less was he likely to think of it now! Surely the Gold Cross had nothing
to do with that fiasco which had ended in unconsciousness. That was not
supreme heroism. There was something wrong, somewhere. _That_ was just a
stunt....

Well, he would take things as they came--quicksand, a frantic run in
storm and darkness, new friends, the Gold Cross