"I mean you always seem to have a lot of fellows with you," Tom said, ignoring the compliment. "Everybody likes your troop, that's sure. And your troop seems to be stuck on you."
"Good night!" Hervey laughed. "They won't be stuck on me after Saturday. That'll be the end of my glorious career."
"What did you do?" Tom asked, after his customary fashion of construing talk literally.
"Oh, I didn't exactly commit a murder," the other laughed, "but I fell down, Sla--you don't mind my calling you Slady, do you?"
"That's what most everybody calls me," Tom said, "except the troop I was in. They call me Tomasso."
"Sounds like tomato, hey?" Hervey laughed. "No, my troubles are about merit badges. I've bungled the whole thing up. When a fellow goes after the Eagle award, he ought to have a manager, that's what I say. He ought to have a manager to plan things out for him. I tried to manage my own campaign and now I'm stuck--with a capital S."
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