“Is that fair to the troop, Hervey?  Is it fair to yourself?  It isn’t lack of ability; if it was I wouldn’t speak of it.  But it’s because you tire of a thing before it’s finished.  Think of the things you learned in winning those twenty badges—­the Morse Code, life saving, carpentry work.  How many of those things do you remember now?  You have forgotten them all—­lost interest in them all.  I said nothing because I knew you were after the Eagle badge with both hands and feet, but now you see you have tired of that—­right on the threshold of victory.  You can’t blame the boys, Hervey, now can you?”

“Tracks are not so easy to find,” Hervey said, somewhat subdued.

“They are certainly not easy to find if you don’t look for them,” Mr. Warren retorted, not unpleasantly.  “I heard a boy in camp say only this evening that that queer little duck in the Bridgeboro troop had found some tracks near the lake and started to follow them.  There is no pair of eyes in camp better than yours, Hervey.  But you know you can’t expect to find animal tracks down in the village.”

“In the village?”

“Two or three of your own patrol saw you down there a week ago, Hervey; saw you run out of a candy store to follow a runaway horse.  You know, Hervey, horses’ tracks aren’t the kind you’re after.  Those boys were observant.  They were on their way to the post office.  I heard them telling Tom Slade about it.”

“What did he say—­Tom Slade?” Hervey queried.

“Oh, he didn’t say anything; he never says much.  But I think he likes you, Hervey, and he’ll be disappointed.”

“You think he will?”

“You know, Hervey, Tom Slade never won his place by jumping from one thing to another.  The love of adventure and something new is good, but responsibility to one’s troop, to oneself, is more important.  How will your father feel about the bicycle he had looked forward to giving you?  You see, Hervey, you regarded the winning of the Eagle award as an adventure, whereas the troop regarded it as a commission—­a commission entailing responsibility.”

“I’m not so stuck on eagles,” said Hervey, repeating Tom Slade’s very words.  “There might be something better than the Eagle award, you can’t tell.”

“Oh, Hervey, my boy, don’t talk like that, and above all, don’t let the boys hear you talk like that.  There’s nothing better than to finish what you begin—­nothing.  You know, Hervey, I understand you thoroughly.  You’re a wizard for stunts, but you’re weak on responsibility.  Now you’ve got some new stunt on your mind, and the troop doesn’t count.  Am I right?”

Hervey did not answer.

“And now the chance has nearly passed.  Tomorrow we all go to the college regatta on the Hudson, the next day is camp clean-up and we’ve all got to work, and the next night, awards.  Even if you were to do the unexpected now, I don’t know whether we could get the matter through and passed on for Saturday night.  I’m disappointed with you, Hervey, and so are the boys.  We all expected to see Mr. Temple hand you the Eagle badge on Saturday night.  I expected to send your father a wire.  Walley has been planning to take our picture as an Eagle troop.”