Then he said, kind of as if he didn't take much interest--he said, "Actions speak louder than words; did you ever hear that ?" "Sure," I said, "but I'd like to know what that has to do with Skinny." He just kept pushing the stick around, then he said, "If you're such a good friend of his, instead of trotting all around and sticking your face into every cabin like an old maid hunting for a thimble, why didn't you find his trail and follow it ?" I said, "I don't know why I didn't" "If you thought he just went off to be by himself, why didn't you trail him and make sure ?" he asked me, all the while very friendly and quiet like.
"Well, if he wanted to be by himself," I said, "why should I track him ?" "Why should you hunt for him at all, then ?" he said.
"Just because I choose to," I told him.
"That's a good reason," he said.
"It's all the reason you'll get," I blurted out.
"All right," he said, very nice and polite, "only then don't go around thinking you're a better friend to him than I am.

I know this camp and I know those fellows across the lake and I know page fifty-one of the Handbook, and I've seen the kid once or twice." "I suppose you think I don't know what's on page fifty-one of the Handbook," I said, getting mad; "it's the tracking badge--pathfinding-- so there.

And I see you have it on your sleeve, too." "That's where it belongs," he said.
"Well, then, if you think it was so important to track him, why didn't you track him ?" I blurted at him, for I was good and mad.
"I did," he said..