"As long as you get back to-day and register, it's all right," said Tom. "They'll let you.—It ain't none of my business what you tell 'em. You don't even have to tell me what you're going to tell 'em."
"I can't tell them I just ran away," said Roscoe dubiously.
"It's none of my business what you tell 'em," repeated Tom, "so long as you go back to-day and register. When you get it over with, it'll be all right," he added. "I know how it was—you just got rattled.... The first time I got lost in the woods I felt that way. All you got to do is to go back and say you want to register."
"I said I would, didn't I?" said Roscoe.
"Nobody'll ever know that I had anything to do with it," said Tom.
"Are you sure?" Roscoe asked doubtfully.
"They'd have to kill me before I'd tell," said Tom.
Roscoe looked at him again—at the frowning face and the big, tight-set mouth—and knew that this was true.
"How about you?" he asked. "What'll they think?"
"That don't make any difference," said Tom. "I ain't thinkin' of that. If you always do what you know is right, you needn't worry. You won't get misjudged. I've read that somewhere."