Nor should we be too lenient with Danny. He had a kind of sophisticated contempt for the prescribed routine of scouting and it was not exactly in the spirit of self-sacrifice that he saved Holman from summary dismissal. It amused him and annoyed him to see this smug candidate for scout honors delving in books and planning to do things which he, Danny, could do so easily. As long as Holman liked that sort of baby play, Danny was quite ready to assure him his continuance of it. But it was with a tolerant sneer that he did it. And generous acts are not done with a sneer. Moreover, Danny knew that in a couple of weeks the real Danville Bently would arrive and a crisis occur. He had done his stunt of masquerading, and had been able thus to lie low in the perilous days following his escape from the reform school. He went away owing Temple Camp (or the real Bently) the amount of two weeks board, but he had balked at taking the cash that had been proffered him, and had gone penniless. It may be added that he succeeded in finding the trail through the mountain pass across the lake, which Holman Sharpe had tried four times to follow in doing test four for the first class scout badge. CHAPTER XIX THE NEW ARRIVAL Perhaps poor little Skinny's big eyes stared a little more than usual on his hearing of Danny's departure. But he did not fear for Danny. He knew that Danny was equal to anything, that he led a charmed life. He did not know why Danny had left (nobody seemed to know that) but he was not greatly surprised. Back home, Danny had always been the true free lance, coming and going at will. He had followed a circus as far as Ohio and come safely home. To Skinny he was superhuman. Down in that stout little heart, Danny, with all his dubious qualities, was the real hero. He could do anything he wanted to do. All that troubled Skinny was that he wanted to do such dreadful things. Early on the afternoon of August Second he trembled as a little group of new arrivals came down the woods path from the road where the bus had set them down. He stood, a poor, shabby little figure, on the porch of Administration Shack watching those khaki clad boys with suit-cases and duffel bags, as they were piloted into the office. He was just the queer little mascot of camp, a law unto himself, and no longer bothered because he did not wear the scout regalia. They took him around with them, rowing and hiking, because of a superstition that he brought good luck. Sometimes they took him out in the canoe that he had won in an insane frenzy, and he was always shyly pleased to go. Ask any scout in camp about that phenomenal exploit and he would tell you that Skinny did it in a fit and could never do it again. But he was always on hand on Administration porch to gaze at new arrivals. He was the court fool, the camp pet, always in evidence, staring in amazement at the great world.