He said, “Look at the luck that Easton fellow had—the Gold Medal and a hundred bucks. And he doesn’t need it either, his folks are rich.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” I said. “You win a prize or you don’t. Being rich hasn’t got anything to do with it.”
“Yes, but he would have stayed all summer anyway,” Dub said.
“Oh gollies, is that all you’re thinking about?” I said. “Gee, you weren’t like that when we were at Beaver Chasm.”
“I didn’t have to go so soon then,” he said.
“It wasn’t until after Bobby Easton won the Gold Medal that you started grouching,” I said to him.
He said, “What do I care about the Gold Medal—or being an Eagle Scout either? They don’t get me anything.”
“Good night! Don’t get you anything?” I said.
“Sitting home minding the baby while my mother’s out working,” he said. “What good is it being an Eagle Scout when you have to do that? Or the Gold Medal either—what good is it? Now I’m sorry my mother let me come up here at all. Gee, all she could scrape together was two weeks’ board and that isn’t enough up here even just for two weeks. Fellows buy cones and hot dogs and everything and go to the movies over in Catskill. I couldn’t even chip in for the closing events.”
I said, “Well, what of it? You won’t be here anyway.”