e all right. I'm not on exhibition. I
don't want anybody up here piking around just because I took a double
header into space. And I don't want any doctors from Leeds or Catskill
up here, either. Get me?"
"If you get to sleep all right and don't have any fever, you won't need
any doctor," Tom said; "and I won't go away till you're all right."
"You're as white as a snowstorm, Slady," his friend said. "I've had the
time of my life here with you alone. And I'm going to wind up with you
alone. No outsiders. Two's a company, three's a mob."
Something, he knew not what, impelled sober, impassive Tom to sit down
for a few moments on the edge of the bunk where his friend lay.
"Red Cross nurse and wounded doughboy, hey?" his friend observed in that
flippant manner which sometimes amused and sometimes annoyed Tom.
"I liked it, too, being here alone with you," Tom said, "even if it
hadn't been for you helping me a lot, I would have liked it. I like you
a whole lot. I knew I'd like you. I used to camp with Roy Blakeley up on
his lawn and it reminded me of that, being up here alone with you. After
I've gone, you'll mix up with the fellows down in the camp, but anyhow,
you'll remember how we were up here alone together, I bet. You bet I'll
remember that--I will."
Barnard reached out his hand from under the coverings and grasped Tom's
hand. "You're all there, Tommy," he said. "And you won't remember how I
got on your nerves, and how I tried walking on a shadow, and----"
Tom did not release his friend's hand, or perhaps it was Barnard who did
not release Tom's. At all events, they remained in that attitude, hands
clasped, for still a few moments more. "Only the _good_ things about me,
hey, Tommy boy?" his friend asked.
"I don't know any other kind of things," Tom said, "and if I heard any I
wouldn't believe them. I always said your scouts must think a lot of
you. I think you're different from other scoutmasters. You can _make_
people like you, that's sure."
"Sure, eh?"
"It's sure with _me_ anyway," Tom said.
"Resolution, determination, friendship--all _sure_ with _you_. Hey,
Tommy boy? Because you're built out of _rocks_. Bridges, they may be
nothing but shadows, hey? According to you, you can't depend on half of
them. I wonder if it's that way with friendships, huh?"
"It ain't with mine," Tom said simply.
And still Barnard clung to Tom's hand. "Maybe we'll test it some day,
Slady old boy."
"There's no us
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