"Scubbity-yow!" ejaculated Fred. "That would be great!"
"Pshaw! he can't get it. No Lower School boy ever got it. I expect Barry Gray will be medal man this year."
"He won't get my vote," declared Fred, shaking his head.
"Why not, Ginger?"
Fred was used to this nickname now, and did not get mad at it, but he shook his head, and said:
"Just for that. Barry nicknamed me. He's too fresh."
"Aw, pshaw! you're prejudiced," laughed Sparrow.
None of the boys realized what the matter was with Bobby. And he would not tell Fred that he had anything to do with forming the cloud under which Bobby suffered.
The silence of his father and mother—the uncertainty about them—did trouble Bobby continually. Yet he had a deep-seated hope that all would come out right about them. Barry Gray's comforting words regarding the shipwreck had fired his imagination.
The thought, however, that no matter how well he stood in his classes, or how high his marks of deportment were, he could not win the Medal of Honor, disturbed the boy's mind.