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 Tom Slade said not a word. With him actions always spoke louder than words and he had no words to explain his actions. "All I've got to say to _you_" said Roy turning suddenly upon him, "is that as long as you care so much more about scouts out west than you do about your own troop, you'd better stay away from here--that's all I've got to say." "That's what I say, too," said Westy. "Same here," Connie said; "Jiminies, after all we did for you, to put one over on us like that; I don't see what you want to come here for anyway." "I--I haven't got any other place to go," said Tom with touching honesty; "it's kind of like a home----" "Well, there's one other place and that's the street," said Roy. "We haven't got any place to go either, thanks to you. You're a nice one to be shouting home sweet home--you are." With a trembling hand, Tom Slade reached for his hat and fingering it nervously, paused for just a moment, irresolute. "I wouldn't stay if I'm not wanted," he said; "I'll say good night." No one answered him, and he went forth into the night.