Then he went down and stepped upon the earth again and made his way back to his seat.  Those who saw him thought that he was walking, but he was not walking, he was floating on wings.  And the noise about and the big trees in back, and the faces that smiled at him as he passed, were as things seen and heard in a dream....

CHAPTER XXII

TOM RUNS THE SHOW

“William Conway, Anson Jenks, and George Winters, for Star Scout badge, and Merritt Roth and Edward Collins for bronze life saving medals.  These scouts will please step forward.”

Amid great applause they made their way to the platform and one by one returned, greeted with cheers.

“Gaynor Morrison of Edgemere Troop, Connecticut, is awarded the Gold Cross for saving life at imminent hazard of his own.  Congratulations to him but more to his troop.  Scout Morrison will please come forward.”

That was the moment of pride for Edgemere Troop, Connecticut.  Gaynor Morrison, tall and muscular, stood before Mr. Temple and listened to such plaudits as one seldom hears in his own honor.  He went down overjoyed and blushing scarlet.

“And now,” said Mr. Temple, “the last award is properly not an organization award at all.  It is the Temple Camp medal for order and cleanliness in and about troop cabins.  It is awarded to Willis Norton of the Second Oakdale, New Jersey, Troop.  And that, I think, concludes this pleasant task of distributing honors.  I think you will all be glad to know that one who is a stranger to no honor wishes himself to say a few words to you now.  Whatever Tom Slade may have to say goes with me——­”

He could not say more.  Cries of “Bully old Tom!” “Hurrah for Tomasso!” “What’s the matter with old Hickory Nut?” “Oh, you, Tom Slade,” “Spooch, spooch!” “Hear, hear!” arose from every corner of the assemblage and the cries were drowned in a very tempest of applause.

[Illustration:  MR. TEMPLE CONGRATULATES HERVEY WILLETTS.

Tom Slade on Mystery Trail.  Page 124]

He never looked more stolid, nor his face more expressionless than when he arose from his chair.  He was neither embarrassed nor elated.  If he was at all swayed by the sudden tribute, it was as an oak tree might be swayed in a summer breeze.  He knew what he wanted to say and he was going to say it.  He waited, he had to wait, for at least five minutes, till Temple Camp had had its say.

Then he said, slowly, deliberately, with a kind of mixture of clumsiness and assurance which was characteristic of him.

    “Maybe I haven’t got any right to speak.  I’m not on the staff, and
    as you might say, I’m through being a scout——­”

“Never, Tomasso!” said a voice.

    “But I saw something that none of you saw and I know something that
    none of you know about—­except Mr. Temple, that I told it to, and
    the trustees.