"There's nothing in it for me." Tom leaned against the railing of the porch, with his stolid, half interested air.
"Nothing in it for me," Hervey repeated, twirling his hat on the stick in fine bravado.
"So you've decided to be a quitter," Tom said, quietly.
Hervey winced a bit at this.
"You know you said you weren't so stuck on eagles," Hervey reminded him, rather irrelevantly.
"Well, I'm not so stuck on quitters either," Tom said.
"What's the good of my going?
I'm not getting anything out of it." "Neither am I," said Tom.
"You got stung when you made a prophecy about me, didn't you ?" Hervey said with cutting unkindness.

"You and I both fell down, hey?
We're punk scouts--we should bother our heads." Again he began twirling his hat on the stick.

"I couldn't sit with my troop, anyway," he added; "I'm in Dutch." "Well, sit with mine, then; Roy Blakeley and that bunch are all from my home town; they're nice fellows.

You know Pee-wee Harris--the little fellow that fell off the springboard ?" "I ought to like him; we both fell down." "Well, you be on hand at five o'clock and don't make matters worse, like a young fool.

If you've lost the eagle, you've lost it.