"I tried to get fifteen dollars for you so you wouldn't have to stay here and I swam across the lake so as to win the prize canoe; I did it early this morning, Danny, and I won it. But the feller I tried to sell it to because he's rich and has grapefruit sent him and everything--that feller wouldn't buy it, because he's mad at his patrol and he's going home, because they're sore at him on account of his not staying awake so nobody could take the pennant. I'm the one that took it. So I'm the one to blame, because I can't give you fifteen dollars." Danny was a boy who was always ready to do anything. Consequently nothing that any other boy did astonished him. He was interested in propositions to do things. He was not so interested in things that had been done. So all he said was, "You should worry." "I got to worry," said poor Skinny. "And I've got to stay here and I might as well have some fun," said Danny. Poor Skinny was aghast at Danny's utter inability to perceive the peril in which he stood. This impersonation of another boy at Temple Camp was to be merely another casual adventure in the blithesome career of Danny. He had lost no sleep over it, he apprehended no complications. He would cross bridges when he came to them. He was not annoyed by Skinny's near success in the matter of the canoe. What Skinny had done did not seem to impress him as an exploit. Since he was not able to supply fifteen dollars, Danny accepted scouting as a means of escape. And he was not going to worry about it. "Will you promise--cross your heart--that you won't say I told you to do it?" Skinny asked, with panic fear in every feature. "Will you promise--honest and true, cross your heart--that you won't ever even look at me?" "Go on down and get your breakfast, kid," said Danny. "I tried to get you the money so you could go away." "Sure, you should worry; go down and eat, Tiny." "And you won't go to the office till about half past ten, because on account of the train?" "Leave it to me, kid." "You're going to get in a lot of trouble," Skinny warned, pathetically apprehensive. Poor little fellow, he had done the best he could to avert this bizarre and perilous undertaking of Danny's. He had risked his life. He was doomed to trouble with his comrades because of the missing scout suit, and because of his attempt to sell the reward of his heroism. They would not even laugh at him and make fun of him any more. He wondered if he had better go ask the Alligators of Alleghany not to mention the offer he had made at their cabin. But that would only discredit him with them; it would look sneaky.