As Tom Slade emerged after his daily call on the convalescent, a song greeted his ear and he became aware of Hervey Willetts, hat, stocking and all, coming around the edge of the cooking shack. He was caroling a verse of his favorite ballad:
"The life of a scout is kind,
is kind,
His handbook he never can find,
can find.
He don't bother to look,
In the little handbook.
The life of a scout is kind."
"Hunting for your handbook, Hervey?"
"I should fret out my young life about the handbook."
"Walking my way?"
"Any way, I'm not particular."
"Cross come yet?"
"I haven't seen it. Do you think it would look good on my hat?"
"Why, yes," Tom laughed. "Only be sure to pin it on upside down."
"Why?"