"What will you do?" Roscoe asked, looking troubled and unconvinced in spite of Tom's assurances. "I was going to come up here and camp alone over the Fourth of July, anyway," said Tom. "I always meant to do that. I'll call this a vacation--as you might say. I got to thank _you_ for that." "You've got to thank _me_ for a whole lot," said Roscoe ironically; "for a broken head and a lame ankle and missing all the fun last night, and losing your job, maybe." "I ain't worryin'," said Tom. "I hit the right trail." "And saved me from being--no, I'm one, anyway, now----" "No, you ain't; you just got rattled. Now you can see straight, so you have to go back right away. As soon as my foot's better, I'll go down to Temple Camp. That'll be to-morrow--or _sure_ day after to-morrow. I'm going to look around the camp and see if everything is all right, and then I'll hike into Leeds and go down by the train. If I was to go limping back, they might think things; and, anyway, it's better for you to get there alone." "Are you _sure_ your foot'll be all right?" Roscoe asked. "Sure. I'll read that book of yours, and maybe I'll catch some trout for lunch ..." Roscoe sprang forward impulsively and grasped Tom's hand. "Now you spilled my coffee," said Tom impassively. "Tom, I don't know how to take you," Roscoe said feelingly; "you're a puzzle to me. I never realized what sort of a chap you were--when I used to make fun of you and jolly you. Let's feel your old muscle," he added, on the impulse. "I wish _I_ had a muscle like that...." "Tie a double cord around it, and I'll break the cord," said Tom simply. "I bet you can," said Roscoe proudly, "and--you saved me from ... I don't know what you did it for...." "I got no objections to telling you," said Tom. "It's because I liked you. There might have been other reasons, but that's the main one. If I only knew how to act and talk--especially to girls--and kind of make them laugh and----" "Don't talk that way," said Roscoe, sitting on the edge of the bunk and speaking with great earnestness. "You make me feel like a--like a criminal. Me! What am I? You tell Margaret Ellison about how you can break a cord around your arm--and see what she'll say. _That's_ the kind of things they like to know about you. You don't know much about them----" "I never claimed I did," said Tom. "Here, I'm going to try you--call your bluff," said Roscoe, with a sudden return to that gay impulsiveness which was so natural to him. "Here's the cord from the salmon cans----" "You should never bring salmon in big cans," said Tom, unmoved. "'Cause it don't keep long after you open it. You should have small cans of everything." "Yes, kind sir," said Roscoe; "don't try to change the subject. Here, I'm going to try you out--one, two, three." "You can put it around four times, if you want," said Tom. "Do you know how to tie a brig knot?" "Me? I don't know anything--except how to be a fool. There!"