Part 21 (1/2)

”Except that the gold cross gives you four extra weeks,” said Garry, ”and, of course, the more risk a fellow takes, the greater the honor is.” He picked up a pebble and threw it at a tree across the gully. ”I'd rather have one of those medals,” he said, ”than anything in the world--and I want a wireless outfit pretty bad, too. But besides that”

(he kept throwing pebbles across the gully and spoke half absently), ”besides that, it would be fine to have that extra time. Maybe we couldn't use it _all_ this season, but--look, I can hit that thin tree every time--but I'm thinking of the little codger mostly; you know the one I mean--with the light hair?”

”The little fellow that coughs?”

”He doesn't cough any more. He did before we came up here. His father died of consumption. No, he doesn't cough much now--guess it agrees with him up here. He's---- There, I hit it six times in succession.”

For a few minutes Tom said nothing, but watched as Garry, time after time, hit the slender tree across the gully.

”I often dream about having an honor medal, too,” he said, after a while. ”We haven't got any in our troop. Roy'll be the one, I guess. I suppose the gold cross is the highest award they'll ever have, hey?”

”Guess so.”

”There's nothing better than gold, is there?”

”It isn't because there's nothing better than gold,” said Garry, still intent upon hitting his mark. ”It's because there's nothing better than heroism--bravery--risking your life.”

”Diamonds--they might have a diamond cross, hey?”

”What for?”

”In case they found anything that's better than heroism.[missing: ”?]

”What?”

”Oh, I don't know. There might be.”

Garry turned and laughingly clapped Tom on the back. ”I might push you over this precipice and then jump down after you, hey?” he laughed.

”You'd be crushed to death yourself,” said Tom.

”Well, stop talking nonsense or I'll do it. Come on, get your ch.o.r.es done and we'll go down and have a swim. What'd' you say?”

He ran his hand through Tom's thick shock of hair and laughed again.

”Come on, forget it,” said he. ”I've only got two days more here and I'm not going to miss a morning dip. Come on, I'll show you the double twist dive.”

He put his arm through Tom's with the contagious gaiety that was his, and started down the hill with him toward the lake.

”Come on, wake up, you old grouch,” he said.

CHAPTER XV

COWARD!

There were not many boys bathing at the time this thing happened. Roy and several of the Silver Foxes were at a little distance from the sh.o.r.e practising archery, and a number of scouts from other troops lolled about watching them. Three or four boys from a Pennsylvania troop were having an exciting time with the rowboat, diving from it out in the middle of the lake. Pee-wee Harris and Dory Bronson, of Tom's patrol, were taking turns diving from the spring-board. Tom and Garry joined them and, as usual, whenever Garry was diving, boys sauntered down to the sh.o.r.e and watched.

”Here goes the Temple Twist,” said he, turning a complete somersault and then jerking himself sideways so as to strike the water crossways to the spring-board.