As soon as the fellows knew for sure that there was nothing much the matter with Westy, they scrambled out of the ditch and all stood around Skinny, praising him up and he was so excited that he didn’t talk straight, but sort of yelled at them. The only ones with Westy were the real doctor and Doc Carson, and Doc was helping him fix the bandages better.

When I saw them down there it made me feel as if I’d like to go down and say something to Westy. His face was all white and the bandage on his head made him look—oh, I don’t know—sort of as if he might die. And then I’d be sorry I hadn’t said something to him. Because I had known Westy an awful long time.

So I went down and pretty soon the doctor went up to see Skinny and Doc Carson went too. So I was alone with him down there, but his eyes were shut on account of his being weak from losing so much blood, and he didn’t notice me.

Anyway, I slipped that two dollars into his shirt pocket because I didn’t want it anyway, and I thought maybe it would be a memorandum to him, like I said. Besides I didn’t have a right to keep money I got out of another fellow’s pocket.

I said, “It’s me, Westy; the reason I didn’t come around was because all the other fellows were here. But now you’re alone I want to tell you that I’m glad you’re not hurt bad.”

He just looked at me and he said, “I went—I did it.”

First I didn’t know what to say, and then I said, “Never you mind, I guess you were kind of crazy. We all get crazy sometimes. I was crazy when I thought Tom Slade was lying once. Never you mind.”

“I guess I was crazy,” he just said, and then he shut his eyes and I didn’t bother him any more—only just sat there. I don’t know what made him tell me, but anyway, I was glad.

Pretty soon I helped him to Dr. Winters’ automobile because he limped pretty bad. Skinny went in the automobile, too, and Doc Carson, but they didn’t ask me. All the fellows went along the road, too, because nobody felt like hauling the saplings that day, and I didn’t, that’s sure. I said I was going back to get Skinny’s axe, and I was glad when I was all alone in the woods. That’s the best place to be if you’ve got any troubles and you want to think.

And I kind of didn’t want to think about Westy, so I thought about Skinny just to keep everything else out of my head. Because I knew it wouldn’t ever be just the same again with Westy and I didn’t want to think about it. In the troop it would be all right, and maybe in the patrol too, but it wouldn’t ever be just the same again with Westy and me.

I was glad that I’d be interested in Skinny and now I could see he was different from all of us—kind of wonderful—I don’t know how to tell you. His eyes were so big, and wild, and starey. And he said things in such a funny way and he got so excited. Up at Temple Camp, afterwards, Mr. Ellsworth told Jeb Rushmore that Skinny was inspired, but I don’t know just what he meant. All I knew is we were even scared of him sometimes. He never called any of us by our names—that was funny.

Pretty soon I went home. It was all dark in the woods and dandy for thinking, and I was glad I had one friend, anyway, and that was Jim Hawkins in the book. I guessed maybe that was the reason that Westy got the book, because only lately I had read it, and I had told him so much about it. All the way home I kept thinking about Westy and I wished I had never found that out.

Mostly at night I sit on the porch with my mother and father, but that night I went to my tent and lit the lantern and sat there. I like a lantern because it reminds you of camping. Nix on electric lights up at Temple Camp, that’s what Jeb Rushmore says. Gee, he has no use for electric lights—electric lights and umbrellas. But, anyway, I’ve got a wire from our garage to Camp Solitaire (that’s my tent) and a bulb for when I want to read. Jerry says I ought to pay for tapping the garage current. I should worry.

I sat down and began reading Treasure Island all over again. I skipped a lot because I had only just lately read it, and pretty soon I was reading about in the middle of it, where they start off in the ship. That’s the part I like best. All of a sudden I couldn’t see the reading very good and I noticed there was a stain on the page.

Here’s where I wish that I knew all about writing books like a regular grown up author, because I have to explain something to you and, cracky, I wish you could see that book, because then it would be easier. First, I didn’t think anything about it at all, only I noticed that the stain was on the left hand page. Then, all of a sudden I noticed something about that stain that got me all excited.

It was in the shape of a ring, kind of.

Right away I knew what it meant. I picked up one of my oar-locks and laid it on the stain and it just covered it. So I saw I had damaged the book when I had it before. That’s one thing you’re not supposed to do—damage books out of the library. If you keep a book till it’s overdue, that isn’t so bad, because then you just pay a fine. Connie says that’s being a good bookkeeper.

But to damage a book—g-o-o-d night!