TOM FIXES IT
Now this is next to the last chapter in this book, but you should worry
because I’m going to write a lot more books.
Mr. Arnoldson said very stern, “Well, sir, what are you doing here at
this hour of the night? What is all this?”
Hervey said, “These fellows came of their own accord except this one and
he’s the one who was in Administration Shack at six o’clock to-night and
answered the ’phone when I called and gave me the name of Wilkins.
“He was there hunting in the case for a chart of the lake, and he’s here
to tell you I’m not a liar. He wanted to hunt for the treasure so you
see there are others as crazy as I am, but I wouldn’t go to the trouble
of telling a lie and I don’t intend to stay here anyway, only I want you
to know that I’m not a liar. He answered the ’phone and said he’d tell
the keepers. He did it because he got rattled, and he’s just as good as
I am——”
“Good night,” I whispered to a fellow near me.
“And he didn’t commit any crime because it says on the shack _visitors
welcome_,” Hervey went on. “So now if you want to ask him any questions
you can do it, and if you care to apologize for calling me a liar you
can do it, only hurry up because I’m through with this place—I’m washing
my hands of it.”
“He knows one scout law—cleanliness,” a fellow whispered.
Mr. Arnoldson was awful nice, I’ll say that. He came down and said,
“Willetts, I’m always ready to apologize when I’m wrong. Who is this
young man?”
“Willetts ought to apologize for waking everybody up,” a scoutmaster
said.
“Not at all,” Mr. Arnoldson said; “I couldn’t sleep with the stigma of
lying upon me.”
“He never sleeps anyway,” somebody said about Hervey.
Cracky, I have no use for sharpies, but I have to admit that this one
was all right. And he could use dandy words too. He told Mr. Arnoldson
just how it was, the whole thing. Hervey just stood there trying to
balance that crazy stick on his nose—he didn’t look very much insulted.
Mr. Arnoldson said, “Well, scouts, I’m glad you arose so you can all
hear my apology.”
“Stop balancing that stick and listen, will you!” I whispered to Hervey.
Honest, he had me nervous.
Mr. Arnoldson said, “Willetts, I never denied you were brave and
venturesome—too venturesome.” That’s just the way he said it. “I never
concealed the fact that you are unruly and disobedient and reckless. You
would rather do a stunt and be spectacular than be a good scout. Your
doubtful reputation caused me to misjudge you. You can’t be any happier
than I am at this public apology.
“I apologize to you, Willetts, and whatever else you are, you are not a
liar. I advise you to go to your quarters and turn in now and get some
sleep. I’m glad you aroused me. In the morning you are going to make a
fresh start, Willetts, and show what kind of a scout you can be.”
It was mighty nice, the way Mr. Arnoldson said it. Gee whiz, he couldn’t
have been nicer. He wasn’t mad at all on account of the things Hervey
had shouted. He just kind of admitted that Hervey was in the right the
way he came and everything. And all the scouts were saying that was some
stunt how he had saved Tripler’s life. _Jiminetty_, Hervey had
everything going his way. That was just when he got me good and mad with
his crazy, reckless ways. Why didn’t he shake hands with Mr. Arnoldson?
Oh, no, he must start off without even saying a word to him. I felt
awful sorry for Mr. Arnoldson. He didn’t even get mad at Hervey calling
him a boob.
Hervey just said very grand like, “I just wanted this whole kindergarten
to know that I’m no liar. Come ahead, Trip, let’s get out of here, I’m
through with this outfit. They’re dead, and they haven’t got sense
enough to lie down. I’m through with this camp for good and all. I was
going to leave last week.”
“I understood you to say you would accept my apology, Willetts,” Mr.
Arnoldson said to him, awful nice and patient, sort of.
Hervey said, “I do, but I’m through with this place. I was told to go
and I’m going—that’s absolutely positive. I’ve had enough. I don’t
belong here, I——”
_Plunk!_ Just as he was starting off who should he bunk right into but
Tom Slade.
“H’lo, Hervey,” said Tom. “What’s the matter now? Breaking up
housekeeping?”
“Slady, I always liked you,” Hervey said; “but this bunch—I’m leaving
to-night, Slady. So long.”
I guess Tom must have been there all the time. He just said, “Too bad,
Hervey, I was just going to ask you to do a little favor for me—a good
turn.”
“Nix on those,” Hervey said. “Come on, Trip.”
“You see,” Tom said in that easy way he has, “there’s a carnival going
on at Greenvale——”
“We were there,” Hervey said; “come ahead, Trip.”
Tom said, “Well, you see, they had a fellow engaged to do a high dive
there on Saturday, and he’s flunked. They sent here and asked if we
happened to have a good diver who could do the stunt—dive from a high
platform or something like that—carrying a flag—I forgot just what. I
told them _nothing doing_——”
“What do you mean, nothing doing?” Hervey blurted out.
“I told them there wasn’t a scout here could do it,” Tom said.
“What do you mean, couldn’t do it?” Hervey shot back at him. “I saw that
platform, it’s a cinch——”
“Yes, for a professional,” Tom said.
“What do you mean a professional?” Hervey came right back at him.
“There’s a pond there and a ladder—we saw the whole business—it’s—Slady
it’s—there’s nothing to it—it’s a kid’s trick.”
“Well, er—as long as you’re starting away to-night,” Tom said. “If you
were staying over Saturday——”
“I’ll stay over Saturday, Slady,” said Hervey. “I’ll do that just to
show you I can. Nobody can call me a— But not a day after Saturday,
Slady. You tell ’em I’ll do that dive and throw in a double
somersault—I’ll show you. You told them there’s nobody here could do
that? _You told them that?_ You make me laugh, Slady!”
“You think you could do it?” Tom asked him, kind of doubtful and
serious.
“Slady, don’t make me laugh,” Hervey said.
“It would be some stunt,” said Tom.
“What do you mean, stunt?” Hervey shot back. “Slady, I’ll show you—you
just leave it to me.”
“You’ll try it then?”
“_Try it!_ Don’t make me smile, Slady. You tell ’em I’ll do it. Here’s
my hand on it.”
“I don’t want your hand,” said Tom; “give it to Mr. Arnoldson. If you
really mean business, if you really think you could do it, if you really
want to give your hand on it, as a pledge——”
“Posilutely,” Hervey said.
“Well, then, give your hand to Mr. Arnoldson,” Tom said; “he’s a
trustee. Go ahead, if you mean business and are not just bluffing, give
your hand to Mr. Arnoldson. Are you game? Talk is cheap. Now see if
you’re game.”
Gee whiz, I had to laugh to see Hervey walk up as bold and friendly as
could be and shake hands with Mr. Arnoldson. Honest, that fellow’s a
scream. Mr. Arnoldson was laughing all over. Before they got through
shaking hands who should go running up but Sandwich, jumping up at Mr.
Arnoldson and at Hervey and barking like mad.
I guess he wanted to give his hand on it too.