"Am I out of the troop?" Hervey asked, wistfully. "N--no, you're not. But I want you to learn to be as good a scout in one way as you are in another. You have won merit badges with an ease which is surprising to me----" "They're a cinch," Hervey interrupted. "I want you to go home and stop doing stunts and read the handbook. I want you to read the oath and the scout laws, so that when the rest of us come home you can give me your hand and say, 'I'm an all round scout, not just a doer of stunts.'" "H--how soon are--the rest of you coming back?" Hervey asked with just the faintest suggestion of a break in his voice. "Why, you know we're here for six weeks, Hervey. Don't you know anything about your troop's affairs? You know how much money we have in our treasury, don't you?" Hervey did not miss the reproach. He said nothing, only kept tracing the circle with his stick. Finally it occurred to him to mark two eyes, a nose and a mouth in the circle. Mr. Denny sat studying him. I think Mr. Denny was on the point of weakening. Hervey seemed sober and preoccupied. But the face on the ground seemed to wink at Mr. Denny as if to intercede in its young creator's behalf. Mr. Denny gathered his strength as one does on the point of taking an unpalatable medicine. "Yesterday, Hervey, I expressly reminded you of your promise not to leave camp. I did that because I thought the storm might tempt you forth." "They call me----" "Yes, I know; they call you the stormy petrel. You went across the lake with others. They returned but you did not return with them. Where you went I don't know. And I'm not going to ask you, Hervey, for it makes no difference. I understand young Mr. Slade was there, but _that_ makes no difference. Blakeley and one of his troop, Westy Martin, reached camp and reported conditions in the cove----" "He's all right, Blakeley is----" "Hours passed, no one knew where you were. I was too proud, or too ashamed, to go and ask Slade if he knew. I am jealous of our troop's reputation, Hervey--even if you are not----" Hervey leaned against the cabin, looking abstractedly at his handiwork on the ground. "There was great confusion and excitement here," Mr. Denny continued. "The whole camp turned out to save the lake, to stem the flood. But you were not here. Your companions in our troop worked till they were dog tired. But where were you? Helping? _No_, you were off on some vagabond journey--disobedient, insubordinate." Mr. Denny spoke with resolute firmness now and his voice rang as he uttered his scathing accusations. "You were a traitor not only to your troop, but to the camp--the camp which held out the hand of good fellowship to you when you came here. A _slacker_----" Hervey broke his stick in half and threw it on the ground. His breast heaved. He looked down. He said nothing. Mr. Denny studied him curiously for a few seconds.