re to "jolly."

"What do you mean, assigned them?" Connie asked, utterly nonplussed.
"You don't mean you gave our three cabins on the hill to another troop?"

"Yes, I did," Tom said weakly; "I remember now. I'm sorry."

For a moment no one spoke, then Dorry Benton said, "Do you mean that?"

"I got to admit I did," Tom said in his simple, blunt way.

"Well I'll be----" Roy began. Then suddenly, "You sober old grave
digger," said he laughing; "you're kidding the life out of us and we
don't know it. Let's see you laugh."

But Tom did not laugh. "I'm sorry, because they were the last three
cabins," he said. "I don't know how I happened to do it. But you've got
no right to misjudge me, you haven't; only yesterday I told Mr. Burton I
liked the troop, you fellows, best----"

Roy Blakeley did not wait for him to finish; he threw the troop book on
the table and stared at Tom in angry amazement. "All right," he said,
"let it go at that. Now we know where you stand. Thanks, we're glad to
know it," he added in a kind of contemptuous disgust. "Ever since you
got back from France I knew you were sick and tired of us--I could see
it. I knew you only came around to please Mr. Ellsworth. I knew you
forgot all about the troop. But I didn't think you'd put one like that
over on us, I'll be hanged if I did! You mean to tell me you didn't know
those three cabins were ours, after we've had them every summer since
the camp started? Mr. Burton will fix it----"

"He can't fix it," Tom said; "not now."

"And I suppose we'll have to take tent space," Connie put in. "Gee
williger, that's one raw deal."

"But _you_ won't have to take tent space, will you?" Roy asked. "You
should worry about _us_--we're nothing but scouts--kids. We didn't go
over to France and fight. We only stayed here and walked our legs off
selling Liberty Bonds to keep you going. Gee whiz, I knew you were sick
and tired of us, but I didn't think you'd hand us one like that."

"Don't get excited, Roy," Doc Carson urged.

"Who's excited?" Roy shouted. "A lot _he_ has to worry about. He'll be
sleeping on his nice metal bed in the pavilion--assistant camp
manager--while we're bunking in tents if we're lucky enough to get any
space. Don't talk to _me_! I could see this coming. I suppose the
scoutmaster of that troop out in Ohio was a friend of his in France. We
should worry. We can go on a hike in August. It's little Alf I'm
thinking of mostly."

It was noticeable that