"I don't see how Skinny held him up—I just don't," I told Mr. Ellsworth.
Mr. Ellsworth said, "No, it was marvelous any way you look at it. I think Skinny nearly broke the poor fellow's jaw. There is wonderful power in frantic desperation."
Anyway, at supper all the fellows were shouting about Skinny. Everybody said he'd have the gold cross—even Uncle Jeb and Mr. Elting. And you never hear Mr. Elting saying much about those things till he's sure. All the Elks were shouting about the gold cross and where they'd keep it, just as if it was theirs. Hardly any of them said anything about Skinny.
At camp-fire it was just the same only more so, and I noticed across the fire that Mr. Ellsworth and a couple of the scoutmasters were talking together and I guessed they were deciding about getting a searching party started.
Pretty soon Bert Winton came over and squatted down alongside of me. Kind of hot on the other side," he said, "flame blows right in your face. These fellows all in your patrol?"
I told him, "Yes," and then I said, "mostly we hang together."
