Subject: These are the coolest t-shirts around

From: "Mark Paulsen" <[email-masked]>
Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2018 11:25:52 -0500

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Tom looked up and listened. Through the little window he could glimpse them as they passed, carrying Garry Everson upon their shoulders, and shrieking themselves hoarse. Peewee was there and Artie Val Arlen, of the Ravens, and the little sandyhaired fellow with the cough, running to keep up and yelling proudly for his chief and idol. Hurrah for the silver cross they called. Three cheers for the honor scout Three cheers and three extra weeks They paused within a dozen feet of where Tom sat, and pushing, elbowing, fell into the woods path leading up to Hero Cabin. Tom listened until their voices, spent by the distance,

different lifesaving wrinkles and that they have to use their judgment. His manner had a touch of nonchalance, or rather, perhaps of indifference, which struck one or two of the visiting scoutmasters unfavorably. But Jeb Rushmore, who was in the room, sitting far back with his lanky arms clasped about his lanky limbs, and a shrewd look in his eyes, was greatly impressed, and it was largely because of his voice that the recommendation went to headquarters for the silver medal. In all of the proceedings the name of Tom Slade was not once mentioned, though his vantage point on the springboard ought to have made his testimony of some

troop and patrol as one of them the estrangement would have been entirely forgotten, but he lived a life apart, seeing them only at intervals, and so the coldness continued. As the time drew near for the troop to leave, Tom fancied that the feeling against him was stronger because they were thinking of the extra time they might have191 had along with the honor they had lost, but he was sensitive and possibly imagined that. He sometimes dered if Roy and the others were gratified to know that these good friends

value. So Garry Everson and his little onepatrol troop took up their abode in Hero Cabin, and the little sandyhaired fellow with the cough raised and lowered the colors each day, as Tom had done, and ate more heartily down at mess, and made birchbark ornaments in the sunshine up at his beloved retreat, and was very proud of his leader; but he had little use for Tom Slade, because he believed Tom was a coward.190 In due time the Silver Cross itself came, and scouts who strolled up to visit the cabin on the precipice noticed that sometimes the little sandyhaired fellow wore it, so that it came to be rumored about that Garry