“First tell me, in goodness’ name, where did you get that scarf-pin?” Brent asked. His interested scrutiny of the boy had paused at a conspicuous ornament upon the necktie which the youngster wore. He had on an ordinary boy’s jacket with white collar, and a tie which showed a heroic but ghastly effort to achieve the glory of a four-in-hand. Into this tie was inserted a scarf-pin presenting four magnificent glass gems set in a diagonal row. “That’s very nifty,” said Brent. “It takes me back to the days when I lived in the civilized world. You got it----” “I got it in a package of lemon-drops,” said the boy, with aggressive frankness. “Which you bought on a train?” “In a show,” said the boy, “between the acts.” “Exactly,” said Brent, winking at Tom. “Now sit down and---- You like bacon?” “Sure, I like anything,” said the boy, eating. “Except Scouts,” said Tom. “You don’t like ’em, do you?” said the boy, out of a full and busy mouth. Tom eyed him amusedly. His look seemed to say that he knew the type. “Was you ever one?” the boy asked. “I used to think I was,” Tom said. “It’s good you got out of ’em.” “What’s your name?” “Arnold Henshaw, but you can call me Spiff, if you want to--it don’t worry me.” “That’s short for spiffy?” said Brent. “Yop--it don’t bother me, it don’t. They’re a fresh bunch up there, I’ll tell the world.” “You camping up there, Spiff?” Tom asked. “I was, but I’m through--never again--I’ll say.” “Had a falling out with them?” “Nix, they had a falling out with me.” Tom winked at Brent. “You like chocolate?” Brent asked. “Sure, I can eat anything.” “It’s great for making smutches,” said Brent. “Now, tell us all about your life and death and Christian sufferings.” “Gee, I didn’t die yet; not so you’d notice it.” “So they’re a fresh bunch up there at the lakes?” Tom encouraged. “Sure,” said Arnold Henshaw, alias Spiff. “They says I got to take lessons from those guys. To get merit badges I don’t have to take lessons. Anyway, they get merit badges and they can’t do as many things as I can. I swam across the lake one night and they wouldn’t give me a merit badge. They can chuck it in the lake for all I care.” “So?” Tom was sitting with hands clasped around his upraised knee, listening intently. He seemed inwardly amused. “They got the knife in me, that crowd,” said Spiff. “You’re not understood,” Brent commented in an undertone. “May be true at that,” said Tom. “You see, I suppose it’s against the rule to swim at night. Of course, you can’t get merit badges breaking rules.” “They got me washing dishes for discipline,” said the boy. “Would you do that?” “Oh, I’ve washed lots of dishes,” said Tom. “Well, they ain’t going to put _me_ doing that. That’s why I sneaked away this afternoon.” “Oh, I see,” said Tom. “I’m going to go home, I am. I’m going to find my way out of here; you can go to Sloatsburg this way, can’t you?” “I believe so. Where do you live?” “And why?” said Brent.