"He likes me, he does; because I used to steal things out of grocery
stores just like he did--once."

"All right," Hervey laughed. "Go ahead now, it's getting
late--Asbestos."

"That isn't my name."

"Well, you remind me of a friend of mine named Asbestos, and I remind
myself of an eagle. Now don't ask any more questions, but beat it."

And so the scout who had never bothered his head about the more serious
side of scouting sat on the log watching the little fellow as he
followed those precious tracks a little further so that there might be
no shadow of doubt about his fulfilling the requirement. Then Hervey
shouted to him to come back, and shook hands with him and was the first
to congratulate him on attaining to the dignity of second-class scout.
Not a word did Hervey say about the amusing fact of little Skinny having
followed the tracks backward; backward or forward, it made no
difference; he had followed them, that was the main thing.

"They're _my_ tracks; all mine," Skinny said.

"You bet," said Hervey; "you can roll them up and put them in your
pocket if you want to."

Skinny gazed at his companion as if he didn't just see how he could do
that.