But Roy Blakeley, clinging to his arm, could feel what no one else could feel or see--Tom's hand pressing his wrist like a wireless signal, and Roy, like the bully scout he was, understood the code, took the message, and was silent.
Yes, that was a great meeting--it was a _peach_ of a meeting!
"You broke your word," accused Tom, as Roscoe elbowed his way in.
"I did nothing of the kind. I asked you to trust a soldier's honor. You know more about a soldier's honor now than you did before, don't you?"
"_Good-night!_" laughed Roy. "No more soldier's honor for you! Hey, Tomasso? You've had enough of it."
Indeed he had had altogether too much of it. But his embarrassment passed as the bulk of the crowd, not involved in this surprising turn of affairs, took its way homeward, leaving the scouts and a few others in the hall. And soon things worked around so that Roscoe saw Tom alone. Not altogether alone, either, for Margaret Ellison was with him. How Roy and Pee-wee chanced to miss this I do not know.
The girl said very little, but stared at him until at last he said, "Are you looking at that scar? It don't look good, but it'll go away, I guess."
"He gave his place to another man," said Roscoe, "and was dumped into the ocean alone."
"A chunk of wood banged me in the forehead," said Tom simply.
"Tom, I want you to do me a favor," said Roscoe, while Margaret continued to gaze at him. "It's a terribly impolite thing to suggest, but if you'd be willing to walk over to East Bridgeboro with Margaret, I could go home and get my things together. I'm afraid I'll miss the only train. You come to my house afterward and go to the train with me. You don't mind, do you, Marge? He'll protect you from the lions and tigers."
"I--ain't dressed up," said Tom awkwardly.
Never in his life had he walked with a girl anywhere near his own age, and he felt just as he had felt that gala day when he had chatted with her in Temple Camp office. And because he was flustered and knew of nothing in particular to say, he repeated just what he had said then--that he could see she liked Roscoe, and he added that he didn't blame her, for Roscoe was "so good-looking in his uniform--kind of."
To this she made no answer; but after a few minutes she said, "Will you take me through Barrel Alley where you used to live?"