quitter, do you suppose I'd have stuck up here?"

Thornton gazed about him at the three new cabins, which this queer
friend of his had built there to rectify a trifling act of
forgetfulness; he looked at Tom's torn shirt, through which his bruised
shoulder could be seen, and at those tough scarred hands.

"So now you know something about them," Tom said.

"I know something about _one_ of them, anyway," Thornton replied
admiringly.

"If a fellow sticks in one way, he'll stick in another way," Tom said.
"If he makes up his mind to a thing----"

"You said it, Slady," Thornton concurred, giving Tom a rap on the
shoulder. "And now you know, you won't tell? You won't tell that I've
gone to New York?" he added with sudden anxiety.

"Who would I tell?" Tom asked. "Nobody ever made me do anything yet that
I didn't want to do." Which was only too true.

Thornton crossed one knee over the other and talked with more ease and
assurance. "I met Barnard on the train coming east, Slady. He has red
hair like mine, so I thought I'd sit down beside him; we harmonized."

Tom could not repress a smile. "He told me in a letter that he had red
hair," he observed.

"Red as a Temple Camp sunset, Tommy old boy. You're going to like that
fellow; he's a hundred per cent, white--only for his hair. He's got
scouting on the brain--clean daft about it. He told me all about you and
how he and his crew of kids were going to spend August here and make
things lively. Your crowd----"

"Troop," Tom said.

"Right-o; your troop had better look out for that bunch--excuse me,
_troop_. Right? I'm learning, hey? I'll be a good scout when I get out
of jail," he added soberly. "Never mind; listen. Barnard thinks you're
the only scout outside of Dansburg, Ohio. He told me how he was coming
here to give you a little surprise call before the season opened and the
kids--guys--scouts, right-o, began coming. Tom," he added seriously, "by
the time we got to Columbus, I knew as much about Temple Camp and you,
as _he_ did. He didn't know so much about _you_ either, if it comes to
that. But I found out that you were pretty nearly all alone here.

"Then he got a wire, Tom; I think it was in Columbus. A brakeman came
through the train with a message, calling his name. Oh, boy, but he was
piffed! 'Got to go home,' he said. That's all there was to it, Tom.
Business before pleasure, hey? Poor fellow, I felt sorry for him. He
found out he could get a train back in a