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Burton, manager of the Temple Camp office, had told Tom that the only way to acquire confidence and readiness of speech was to formulate what he wished to say and to say it, without depending on any one else, and to this good advice, Peewee Harris, mascot of Tom's Scout Troop had made the additional suggestion, that it was good to say it whether you had anything to say or not, on the theory, I suppose, that if you cannot shoot bullets, it is better to shoot blank cartridges than nothing at all.
The next morning it was hard to believe in the spectacle of the preceding day. The house of Pinewood was pleasantly open to the sun and air. Hope Wayne, in a black dress of the lightest possible texture, so thin that her arms could be seen through the sleeves, sat by a window. Lawrence Newt sat beside her. Dr. Peewee was talking with Mrs. Dinks.
Roy went up in the elevator to get some circulars from Temple Camp office, and Tom, on his way back from across the street went into the bank to speak with Mr. Temple's secretary. And the girl spoiled everything, as Peewee Harris always said that girls are forever doing. She was in a great hurry to get the cover off her machine and other matters straightened out, before Mr.
"Not so you'd notice it," one of the Dansburg scouts said. "Gee, I'm not scared of girls, that's one thing," Peewee informed them. "I'm not scared of any kind of wild animals." "And would you call a girl a wild animal?" young Mr. Barnard inquired, highly amused. "They scream when they get in a boat," Peewee said; "most always they smile at me."
Then I ambulates out among the rubes 'n' acts like I'm willing to bet on the bay geldin'. If I finds a live one, Butsy takes his hoss up in his lap the last two trips 'n' Peewee comes on 'n' grabs the gravy. "We figger the rubes'll eat it up after seein' that nice-lookin' black stud romp away with the first heat. But right there the dope falls down the rubes ain't as dead as they look.
"That's worth while, Peewee!" declared George as he pounded his diminutive friend upon his back. "That's what it is!" joined in the other boys. Meanwhile the victorious motor-boat had drawn alongside the Caledonia and as Fred looked up to the enthusiastic people on the deck the only voice to which he was listening was that of his grandfather. "That was fine, young man!" shouted the old gentleman.
It seems to help Butsy a lot he acts more cheerful right away. "'Cherries are ripe, he says. 'Our next town's Mount Clinton. I know every boob in it. We'll sift some change out of them Knox County plow-pushers. "We ships over the B. & O. to Mount Clinton. It's rainin' when we unloads, 'n' Butsy ain't as cheerful as he was. "'How far is it to the track? Peewee says to him.
"One mawnin' I'm in the Gait House, lookin' fur a hossman that's stoppin' there, 'n' I see Peewee Simpson settin' in the lobby like he'd just bought the hotel. "'Who left the door open? I says to him. "'It's still open, I see, says Peewee, lookin' at me. "We exchanges a few more remarks, 'n' then Peewee tells me he's come to Loueyville to buy some yearlin's fur ole man Harris.
"I had figured to sick you on to Peewee Simpson to-day, but he ain't around, so I'll spill some chatter about ringin' a hoss among the society bunch one time, 'n' then I'll buy a bucket of suds." "I'll buy the beer," I stated with emphasis. "All right just so we get it I'll be dryer'n a covered bridge," said Blister. "This ringin' I mentions," he went on, "happens while I'm ruled off.
Roy Blakeley heard these words as in a dream, and even Peewee was silent. The others of Roy's troop looked at each other but said not a word. No indeed, we should feel like usurpers if there were any question of friendly preference.
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