"No, Hervey, as I said, I have written to your father. I have said nothing against you, only that you are too much for me here, where my responsibility is great. I want you to get your things together and take the train in the morning. We'll expect to see you when we come home. There is no hard feeling, Hervey. When we come home you're going to start all over again, my boy, and learn the thing right. You——"
With a kind of spasmodic effort Hervey raised his head and, with a pride there was no mistaking, looked his scoutmaster straight in the face. He was trembling visibly. If there was any contrition in his countenance, Mr. Denny did not see it. He was quite taken aback with the fine show of spirit which his young delinquent showed. There was even a dignity in the old cap with its holes and badges, as it sat perched on the side of his head. There was a touch of pathos, even of dignity too, in his fallen stocking.
"I—I—wouldn't stay here—now—I wouldn't—I—not even if you asked me—I wouldn't. I wouldn't even if you—if you got down on your knees and begged me——"
"Hervey, my boy——"
"No, I won't listen. I—I wouldn't stay even to-night—I wouldn't. Do you think I need a train? I—I can hike to Jonesville, can't I? You say I'm—I'm no scout—Tom Slade he said——"
"Hervey——"
"I don't—anyhow—I don't care anything about the rest of them. I wouldn't stay even for supper. Even if you—if you apologized—I wouldn't——"
"Apologize? Why, Hervey——"
"For what you said—called me—I wouldn't. I don't give a—a—damn—I don't—for all the people here—only except one—and I wouldn't stay if you got down on your knees and begged me—I wouldn't——"
Mr. Denny contemplated him with consternation in every feature. There was no stopping him. The accused had become the accuser. There was something stirring, something righteous, in this fine abandon. In the setting of the outburst of hurt pride even the profane word seemed to justify itself. The tables were completely turned and Hervey Willetts was master of the situation.