“What was it?” Arden asked.
“I’ll tell you when we go fishing,” said Tom.
“A rich man wanted to give me that launch. I told him if he was as crazy as all that, I’d rather have the money it was worth so I could start a little fund up here for the benefit of scouts that aren’t—well, you know what I mean—a sort of scholarship, that’s what I call it. Now where’s the launch? Doc took it to go over to see his grandmother who was sick, and coming back—zip goes the fillum. But my little fund brought you here and kept you here—and I’ve got you instead of the launch. There isn’t any launch but you’re here. You did something bigger than save that goggle-eyed flag or win the race. And the best part of the camp season is still before you.”
Tom paused, and as he glanced about from the bedside toward Arden and her mother, they could see that he was deeply affected, and strangely nervous. Twice he tried to go on and could not, “You needn’t say any more, Tom,” said Arden; “he understands. If he has made himself worthy of you and your generosity, he has done a—a big stunt. I used to—I always said that Wilfred could do anything——”
“Yes.”
“But to make himself worthy of such a friend as you! Yes, he is a hero,” she added low and earnestly. Mrs. Cowell only gazed with silent admiration at the young fellow who sat on the bed with his head averted toward them.
“It isn’t a question,” said Tom, turning again to the boy, “of what the Elks might have had if you had been a flapper. I’m not thinking about the Elks or the Ravens or any of them. I’m thinking about what sort of a prize you should get. We always give awards here, Mrs. Cowell.”
Tom paused. He seemed nervous, anxious—perplexed. He arose and sauntered over to the window and looked out upon the still water of the lake flecked by the early August sunshine. A great joy was in his heart and he knew not how to hold it.
“You see, Wilfred,” he said, “nobody at Temple Camp ever did anything like you did. So the ordinary awards don’t fit. So I had to rise to the occasion as you did. I had to find a big prize. You had your big day; now this is mine. I don’t want you people to think I’m crazy; I guess you know I usually know what I’m doing—I picked Billy. So don’t think I’ve gone out of my head. I’ll tell you—they’re rowing across now, but I’ll tell you now——”
He paused and in the still, drowsy summer morning could be heard the clanking melody of distant oar-locks, the gentle ring of metal, as a rowboat moved across the golden glinted lake.