And presently they started toward the camp, Hervey limping along and carrying the branch.
"An oriole picks up everything he can find and weaves it into his nest," Tom said; "string, ribbon, bits of straw, any old thing.

He likes things that are bright colored." "He's got the right idea, there," Hervey said.
Tom tried again to interest the rescuer in this little companion, imprisoned within its own cozy little home, whom they were taking back to camp.

He could not comprehend how one who had performed such a stunt as Hervey had just performed, and been so careful and humane, could forget about his act so soon and take so little interest in the bird which had been saved by his reckless courage.

But that was Hervey Willetts all over.

His heart went where action was.