“You take it an’ give it to Mary Temple and tell her it’s tossin’ it back—kind of. She’ll know what I mean. You know how to go to places like that—but they get me scared. Tell her it’s instead of the rubber ball, and that I sent it to her.”
“Oh, Tom,” said Mr. Ellsworth, his voice almost breaking, “is that all you have to say—Tom?”
“I’m a scout—I’m obeyin’ the law—that’s all,” said Tom, doggedly. He seemed to be the only one of them all who was not affected, so sure did he feel of himself.
“Do I have to get arrested?” said he.
“Ye-es, I reckon I’ll hev to take ye ’long,” said the constable, advancing.
Tom never flinched.
Roy tried to speak but could only say, “Tom—”
Mr. Ellsworth put his palm to his forehead and held it there a moment as if his head throbbed.
“Can I have my book?” Tom asked as the constable, taking his arm, took a step away.
It was Pee-wee who glided, scout pace, over to the Silver Foxes’ tent. In the unusual situation it never occurred to him that he, a Raven, was entering it uninvited. Esther Blakeley’s triumphant post card hung there but he never noticed it. He brought the well-thumbed Handbook with T. S. on it, and it was curious to see that he gave it to Roy instead of to Tom.