Hervey was not in evidence throughout the day, and since no news is good news, one or two unquenchable spirits in his troop continued to hope that he would put in a dramatic appearance just in the nick of time, with the report of a sensational discovery—the tracks of a bear or a wild cat, for instance. It is significant that they would have been quite ready to believe him, whatever he had said.
But Mr. Warren knew, as his troop did not, of Hervey’s saying that he wasn’t so stuck on eagles, and he was satisfied from the talk that he had had with him that Hervey’s erratic and fickle nature had asserted itself in the very moment of high responsibility. He could not help liking Hervey, but he would never again allow the cherished hopes of the troop to rest upon such shaky foundation.
Whatever lingering hopes the troop might have had of a last minute triumph were rudely dispelled when Hervey came sauntering into camp at about four o’clock twirling his hat on the end of a stick in an annoyingly care-free manner. Tom Slade saw him passing Council Shack intent upon his acrobatic enterprise of tossing the hat into the air and catching it on his head, as if this clownish feat were the chief concern of his young life.
“You going to be on hand at five?” Tom queried in his usual off-hand manner.
“What’s the use?” Hervey asked. “There’s nothing in it for me.”
Tom leaned against the railing of the porch, with his stolid, half interested air.
“Nothing in it for me,” Hervey repeated, twirling his hat on the stick in fine bravado.
“So you’ve decided to be a quitter,” Tom said, quietly.
Hervey winced a bit at this.
“You know you said you weren’t so stuck on eagles,” Hervey reminded him, rather irrelevantly.