"Where did you find the hat?" Hervey inquired. "I bet you can't sit on this without holding on. Were you in the swamp? This is my friend, Mr. Hood—Robin Hood—sometimes I call him Lid instead of Hood. Call him cap if you want to, he doesn't care," he added, still swinging.

Mr. Robin Hood did not seem as much at ease as his young companion. He seemed rather troubled and glanced sideways at Gilbert.

"We should worry about his name if he doesn't want to give it, hey?" Hervey said, winking at Gilbert. "What's in a name?"

Gilbert was shrewd enough not to mention Tom but to give his visit the dignity of highest authority.

"Well, this is a big surprise to me," he said, "and I'm mighty glad it's this way," he added with a deep note of sincerity and relief in his voice. "I was sent from the office to find you and give you this note. I tracked you to the pond and I thought—golly, I'm glad it isn't so—but I thought you went down in the quicksand. I near got into it myself."

"Me?"

"Yes, how did you——"

"Easiest thing in the world. I knew if I could get to the log—did you see the log?"

"It isn't there now."

"I knew if I could get to that I could jump from it to the pond."

"And did you?"

"Surest thing. I kept chucking the suit-case ahead and stepping on it. I had an old board, too. I guess they're both gone down by now."

"Yes."

"When I got to the log I was all hunk—for half a minute. 'One to get ready,' that's what I said. Oh, boy, going down. Toys and stationery in the basement."

Just in that moment Gilbert thought of the bird.

"Yes?" he urged, "and then?"

"One to get ready,
One to jump high,
One to light in the pond or die."

"And you did it? I heard you were reckless. Here, read the note," Gilbert said with unconcealed admiration. The wandering minstrel had made another capture.

He was, however, a little sobered as he opened the envelope. He had never been the subject of an official missive before. He had never been honored by a courier. He had won badges and had an unique reputation for stunts. But when the momentary sting had passed it cannot be said that he left camp with any fond regrets. On the other hand, he bore the camp and his scoutmaster no malice now. He who forgets orders may also forget grievances. In Hervey's blithe nature there was no room for abiding malice.

"What are they trying to hand me now?" he asked, reading the notice.

"I don't know anything about it," said Gilbert; "I think you have to come back, don't you?"

"Sure, I've got the Gold Cross wished on me."

"The cross?" said Gilbert in admiring surprise. "What for?"

"Search me. They're going to test some money or something—testimony, that's it. Something big is going to happen in my young life."

"You'll go back?" Gilbert asked anxiously.

"Sure, if Robin Hood can go with me. Love me, love my dog."

"I don't want to go there," said the young fellow; "you kids better go."

"Then that's the end of the red cross," said Hervey, still swinging. "I mean the Gold Cross or the double cross or whatever you call it. What'd'you say, Hoody? They have good eats there. Will you come and see me cop the cross?"

"He just happened to blow in here," said the stranger, by way of explaining Hervey's presence to Gilbert. "I was knocking around in the woods and bunking in here."

Gilbert was a little puzzled, but he did not ask any questions. He was thoughtful and tactful. He had a pretty good line on Hervey's nature, too.

"Of course, Hervey has to go back," he said, as much for Hervey's benefit as for the stranger's. "I say all three of us go. You'll like to see the camp——"

"They've got a washed-out cove and an oven for making marshmallows, and a scoutmasters' meeting-place with a drain-pipe you can climb up to the roof on, 'n everything," said Hervey in a spirit of fairness toward the camp and its attractions. "They've got messboards you can do hand-springs on when the cook isn't around. I bet you can't do the double flop, Hoody."

"Well, then, we'll all go?" Gilbert asked rather anxiously.

Hervey spread out his arms by way of saying that anything that suited Gilbert and the stranger would suit him.

So the three started off to camp, the stranger rather hesitating, Gilbert highly elated with his success, and Hervey perfectly agreeable to anything which meant action.

It was characteristic of Hervey that he really had not the faintest idea of why he was to be honored with the highest scout award. He had apparently forgotten all about his almost superhuman exploit. He would never have mentioned it nor thought of it. He did recall it in that moment of humiliation when Mr. Denny had talked with him. But he would not speak of it even then. He would suffer disgrace first. And how much less was he likely to think of it now! Surely the Gold Cross had nothing to do with that fiasco which had ended in unconsciousness. That was not supreme heroism. There was something wrong, somewhere. That was just a stunt....

Well, he would take things as they came—quicksand, a frantic run in storm and darkness, new friends, the Gold Cross, anything....

Was there one soul in all that great camp that really understood him?

As they picked their way through the woods, following his lead (for he alone knew the way) he edified them with another song, for these ballads which had made him the wandering minstrel he remembered even if he remembered nothing else.

"You wouldn't think to look at me
That I'm as good as good can be—
a little saint.
You wouldn't care to make a bet,
That I'm the teacher's little pet—
I ain't."