CHAPTER XXII
ACTION
Tom strode down to the messboards which, in pleasant weather, were out under the trees. He seemed not at all angry; there was a kind of breezy assurance in his stride and manner. As he reached the messboards where some of the scouts were already seated on the long benches, several noticed this buoyancy in his demeanor.
"H'lo, kiddo," he said to Pee-wee Harris as he passed and ruffled that young gourmand's hair.
Reaching Mr. Carroll, he asked in a cheery undertone, "May I use one of your scouts for a little while?"
"I'll have the whole troop wrapped up and delivered to you," said Mr. Carroll.
"Thanks."
Reaching Gilbert Tyson, he laid his hand on Gilbert's shoulder and whispered to him in a pleasant, offhand way, "Get through and come in the office, I want to speak to you."
In the office, Tom seated himself at one of the resident trustees' desks, spilled the contents of a pigeon hole in hauling out a sheet of the camp stationery, shook his fountain pen with a blithe air of crisp decision and wrote:
To Hervey Willetts, Scout:—