You are hereby required to present yourself before the resident Court of Honor at Temple Camp, which sits in the main pavilion on Saturday, August the second, at ten A. M., and which will at that time hear testimony and decide on your fitness for the Scout Gold Cross award for supreme heroism.
By order of the
Resident Council.
Pushing back his chair, he strode over to Council Shack, adjoining.
"Put your sig on that, Mr. Collins," said he.
He reëntered the office just as Gilbert Tyson, wearing a look of astonishment and inquiry, and finishing a slice of bread and butter, entered by the other door.
"Tyson," said Tom, as he put the missive in an envelope, "I understand you're a hero, woke up and found yourself famous and all that kind of stuff. Can you sprint? Good. I'm going to give you the chance of your life, and no war tax. Hervey Willetts started for home about three quarters of an hour ago. Never mind why. Deliver this letter to him."
"Where is he?" Gilbert asked.
"I haven't the slightest idea."
"Started for the train, you mean?"
"Now, Tyson, I don't know any more about it than just that—he started for home. To-day's Thursday. He must be here Saturday. Now don't waste time. Here's the letter. Now get out!"