“Hervey,” he finally said, “the boys think it’s too bad that you should fall down just at the last minute. After all you’ve accomplished, it seems like—what shall I say—like Columbus turning back just before land was sighted.”
“He didn’t turn back,” Hervey said; “now there’s one thing I didn’t forget—my little old history book. When Columbus started to cross the Delaware——”
“Listen, Hervey,” Mr. Warren interrupted him; “suppose you and I walk together, I want to talk with you.”
So they strolled together in the direction of the mess boards.
“Now, Hervey, my boy,” said Mr. Warren, “I don’t want you to be angry at what I say, but the boys are disgruntled and I think you can’t blame them. They set their hearts on having the Eagle award in the troop and they elected you to bring it to them. I was the first to suggest you. I think we were all agreed that you had the, what shall I say, the pep and initiative to go out and get it. You won twenty badges with flying colors, I don’t know how you did it, and now you’re falling down all on account of one single requirement.
“Is that fair to the troop, Hervey? Is it fair to yourself? It isn’t lack of ability; if it was I wouldn’t speak of it. But it’s because you tire of a thing before it’s finished. Think of the things you learned in winning those twenty badges—the Morse Code, life saving, carpentry work. How many of those things do you remember now? You have forgotten them all—lost interest in them all. I said nothing because I knew you were after the Eagle badge with both hands and feet, but now you see you have tired of that—right on the threshold of victory. You can’t blame the boys, Hervey, now can you?”
“Tracks are not so easy to find,” Hervey said, somewhat subdued.
“They are certainly not easy to find if you don’t look for them,” Mr. Warren retorted, not unpleasantly. “I heard a boy in camp say only this evening that that queer little duck in the Bridgeboro troop had found some tracks near the lake and started to follow them. There is no pair of eyes in camp better than yours, Hervey. But you know you can’t expect to find animal tracks down in the village.”
“In the village?”
“Two or three of your own patrol saw you down there a week ago, Hervey; saw you run out of a candy store to follow a runaway horse. You know, Hervey, horses’ tracks aren’t the kind you’re after. Those boys were observant. They were on their way to the post office. I heard them telling Tom Slade about it.”