“Good, let’s see your feet—your shoes. That’s fine. You sure you stamped it all out? Regular—like a Scout.”
“I got no use for those guys,” said the boy aggressively.
“So? But you’re sure you put the fire out? You’re for the woods even if you’re not for the scouts, hey?” Tom said pleasantly.
“Give him something to eat,” said Brent. “The potatoes all fell off the stick, didn’t they?”
“I only had two.”
“And about all you got was a smutch,” said Tom. “A kid, a bonfire, a stick, and a potato—and no nourishment, hey? They go good in stories though, don’t they?”
“I got no use for stories,” said the boy unabashed. “They ain’t true. I got no use for Scouts either.”
“Sit down and eat some beans and some bacon and explain all that,” said Tom.
“First tell me, in goodness’ name, where did you get that scarf-pin?” Brent asked.
His interested scrutiny of the boy had paused at a conspicuous ornament upon the necktie which the youngster wore. He had on an ordinary boy’s jacket with white collar, and a tie which showed a heroic but ghastly effort to achieve the glory of a four-in-hand. Into this tie was inserted a scarf-pin presenting four magnificent glass gems set in a diagonal row.