There was time enough that afternoon for Hervey to stage the climax of the latest dare. He wished to do this before the evening paper appeared. It was not by way of showing off, but according to the ethics of dares and stunts the performer must always report and confound his challenger. It is amusing how punctilious Hervey was in such matters.
He was probably the only boy in the upper world of Farrelton who knew where to find Chesty McCullen. But Farrelton had an underworld too, a sprawling group of hovels down by the river, and here Chesty lived. The neighborhood was one of Hervey’s familiar haunts. Chesty, now thoroughly aroused to the perils of Farrelton, could not have been dragged there by wild horses, but for Hervey he would do anything.
“I set you free,” said Hervey, “so you have to pay me back. You have to go up to New Street and see Warner Lewis and Craig Hobson and tell them I sent you. You must only just say to them that they dared me I could get you out of jail so now they got their answer. Seeing is believing, you tell them that. You’ll see a tent on the lawn of one of those houses near the fire-alarm box; that’s where they are. And you can tell them they’re a couple of sap-headed fools and they can take their scout troop and go to blazes with it. You just tell them that. You say I sent you because seeing is believing and they get their faces washed with their own dare.”
Chesty did not know about this errand, undertaken so soon upon his release from jail. But he could not refuse Hervey and he had not the wit to inquire why his hero did not deliver this high-handed address in person. It may be assumed that Hervey had his reasons; perhaps he thought that the effect would be better with himself withdrawn from the scene.
He was on time for supper that evening and did not venture to absent himself afterward. Instead he waited for the talk which all through the meal he suspected his father was reserving for a quiet session in the living room.
“Now, Hervey,” said Mr. Walton, “this matter is closed. You did right to go and give yourself up—I don’t want to hear your reasons. What you did was right. And I think that you did it because you couldn’t get comfortable till you did. So we won’t give too much credit to your dare or your stunt or whatever it was. I⸺”
“Just the same I’ll never do anything for the scouts,” Hervey flared up. “I’m through with that bunch for good and all. They got Chesty McCullen in jail; one of those fellers is a monitor in school, so that shows you what kind of a feller he is. Nix on that outfit. I’m going perch fishing with Chesty to-morrow and I’m going to blow him to a soda too. He’s a poor kid and look what he got—some deal, I’ll say. That kid can beat any of that bunch swimming.”
Mr. Walton listened soberly, his lips pursed. “But you see if you hadn’t sent in the false alarm, Chesty wouldn’t have got in trouble. You got him out, but you also got him in. Isn’t that so, Herve?”
“I never squealed; no siree, I never did that.”
“Well, the matter is closed now anyway, Herve,” Mr. Walton said, despairingly. “I’m sorry you’re dropping out of the Scouts. But of course, I’d rather you’d drop out altogether than be a scout slacker. So you’ll just have to suit yourself. Now what I want to say to you is this. You mustn’t get into trouble again. Last year you caused us a great deal of worry and I sent you up to Temple Camp thinking you’d find a suitable field of enjoyment there. So far I haven’t heard you say one word about your summer at Temple Camp. In the spring you encouraged Mr. Allerton’s dog to follow you for miles and he got run over and I had to settle with Mr. Allerton. You got in trouble for some absurdities last Hallowe’en, taking furniture from porches.