Several of Mr. Carroll's troop, seeing him talking with Tom, approached and hung about as this chat ended. Wherever Tom Slade was, scouts were attracted to that spot as flies are attracted to sugar. They stood about, listening, and staring at the young camp assistant. "Well, how do you think you like us up here?" Tom asked, turning abruptly from his talk with their scoutmaster. "Think you're going to have a good time?" "You said something," one piped up. "Where's Gilbert?" another asked. "Oh, he'll be back in a little while," Tom said. "I sent him on an errand and I suppose he got lost." "He did _not_!" several vociferated. "No?" Tom smiled. "You bet he didn't!" "Well," said Tom, laughing, "if you fellows want to get into the mix-up, keep your eyes on the bulletin board. Everything is posted there, hikes and things. You'll like most of the things you see there." "I'm crazy about tomatoes," one of the scouts ventured. Tom smiled at Mr. Carroll and Mr. Carroll smiled at Tom. There seemed to be a sort of unspoken agreement among them all that Hervey Willetts should be thought of ruefully, and in a way of disapproval. But, oddly enough, none of them seemed quite able to conceal a sneaking liking for him, shown rather than expressed. And there you have an illustration of Hervey's status in camp.... CHAPTER XXVIII THE BLACK SHEEP The scouts were all around the camp-fire when Gilbert Tyson returned with his captives. As they crossed the road and came upon the camp grounds, the stranger seemed apprehensive and ill at ease, but Hervey with an air of sweeping authority informed him that everything was all right, that he would fix it for him. "Don't you worry," he said; "I know all the high mucks here. You leave it to me." He was singularly confident for one in disgrace. "I'll get you a job, all right. When you see Slady or Uncle Jeb you just tell them you're a friend of mine." Robin Hood seemed somewhat reassured by the words of one so influential. By way of giving him a cheery reminder of certain undesirable facts and reconciling him to a life of toil, Hervey sang as they made their way to the office. "You gotta go to work, You gotta go to work, You gotta go to work-- That's true. And the reason why you gotta go to work _IS_ The work won't come to you _SEE?_ "I gotta go to bed, I gotta go to bed, Like a good little scout-- You see. And the reason why I gotta go to bed _IS_ The bed won't come to me. D'you see? The bed won't come to me."