"I never got jealous," Westy said; "I always knew how it was with us. I just went stalking with the Ravens—it was so kind of slow."
"It won't be that way any more," I told him; and I just almost had to gulp—gee, I don't know why. "Only a couple of nights ago I was flopping around like this with Bert Winton and now he's gone—he was a hero, that's sure—and you and I are together again."
"We heard you while we were at camp-fire," Westy said.
"Did you mind?" I asked.
"No, I didn't mind," he said.
"It's funny how two fellows get to be chums," I said.
Westy didn't say anything, only just rowed around. After a while he said, "He knew how to feather, that fellow did. I guess his troop will go home now, hey?"
"Maybe he turned and went back through the passage and they'll find him all safe in the pit," Westy said.
"Nope," I told him; "the lake's different—everything is changed. Skinny won the cross and he's dead. And Bert is dead. It doesn't make any difference what the camp thinks about Skinny now, because he won't know it. And even if they're sore still, Bert won't know it. They won't be back. Everything is changed."
"You just said you and I are not changed," Westy said.