“And do you mean to tell me that a scout can be any more of a scout than that—an Eagle Scout?”
“Sure,” said Tom uncompromisingly.
For a few seconds the young hero of the lofty elm was too astonished to reply. Then he said, “Gee, you’re a peachy scout, everybody says that, but you’re a funny kind of a fellow, that’s what I think. I don’t get you. The Eagle award is the highest award in scouting. It means, oh, it means a couple of hundred stunts—hard ones. You can’t get above that. You’re one yourself, you can’t deny it. No, sir, you can’t get above that—no, siree.... Do you mean to tell me that there’s anything higher in scouting than the Eagle award?” he asked defiantly, after a pause.
“Yop, there is,” said Tom, unmoved.
Hervey paused in consternation. “Well, I’m for the Eagle award, anyway,” he finally said. “That’s good enough for me. And I’m going to get it, too; right away, quick.”
“You’ll get it,” Tom said.
“Think I will?”
“I don’t think, I know.”
“You mean you’re sure I will?”
“That’s what I said.”