“There’s plenty of time,” Dub said. “It doesn’t leave till three-ten.”
“I bet you’re sorry to go, hey Dub?” I said.
He said, “Sure I’m sorry, I never said I wasn’t.”
“I bet you’d like to be Bobby Easton, hey?” the kid asked him.
“Never mind about Bobby Easton,” I said.
“You mean never mind about an honor Scout?” the kid screamed at me.
“Will you please keep your mouth shut about Bobby Easton,” I said. “Run over to the post office and ask them how much two cent stamps are to-day.”
We started for the station and Pee-wee and Sandy walked ahead. Will and Dub and I walked together.
“Well, we’re pretty near at the end of the end,” Dub said.
Jiminies, I felt terribly sorry for him, he was so nice about it. He was the kind of a fellow you get to like more and more all the time. Believe me, you see all kinds at Temple Camp. Some of them go up there as if they were going to wrap up the place and take it home with them. Fresh. Dub didn’t even look like a Scout because he didn’t have any Scout suit, only the hat, and it made him look funny at camp. And I was thinking how he really had the Gold Medal for life saving, only he didn’t have it, like you might say. Gee whiz, he didn’t have anything that showed he was a Scout. But he was one just the same, you can bet. I guess he was as poor as any fellow that ever went up to Temple Camp. He only had just the money for his board and he didn’t have any to spend. He didn’t even have a troop or a patrol with him. He didn’t butt in much, but the Scouts that knew him liked him. He wouldn’t say much when he was out with us, he’d just laugh.