"Praise from the Jersey Snipe means something." "No, it don't either," Roscoe muttered in self-distrust.

"You've saved me from a Hun prison camp and while you were doing it you had to listen to me--Gee! I feel like kicking myself," he broke off.
"I ain't blaming you," said Tom, in his expressionless way.

"If I'd had my way we'd have made a detour when I saw those broken branches, 'cause I knew it meant people were there, and then we wouldn't have got those fellers as prisoners, at all.

So they got to thank you more than me." This was queer reasoning, indeed, but it was Tom Slade all over.
"Me!" said Roscoe, "that's the limit.

Tom, you're the same old hickory nut.