"Yes, Connie Bennett's here—and Will Bronson."
"Then I'd rather have them carry the stretcher, and I'd like for you to walk along by me—I got something to say to you."
They did as he asked, the others following at a little distance, except the little sandy-haired boy who persisted in running forward until Garry called him back and kept his own deterring arm about the boy's shoulder.
"I don't mind my own patrol hearing—or you. I don't care about the gold cross. It's only what it means that counts—sort of. I let Garry save your brother, Will, because I knew he needed to stay longer—I knew about that kid not being strong—that's all. I can go through water as easy as I can through fire—it's—it's easier—if it comes to that."
"Don't try to talk, Tom," said Roy, brokenly.
"But I wouldn't tell even you, Roy, because—because if he'd found it out he wouldn't think it was fair—and he wouldn't have taken it. That's the kind of a fellow he is, Roy."
"Yes, I know what kind of a fellow he is," said Roy.
"Anyway, it's no matter now. You see yourself Hero Cabin is burned down. A fellow might—he might even lose the cross. It's the three weeks that counted—see?"
"Yes, I see," said Roy.
"And tomorrow I want to go back with you fellows in the Good Turn—and see Mr. Temple. I want to ask him if that kid can stay with Jeb 'till Christmas. Then I'll come back up to camp. I've thought a lot lately about our trip up in the Good Turn, Roy."